570.91 
P5 


' 


. 


The  Little  Princess 


Twenty-four  Days 
On  a  Troopship 


J.  Ralph  Picket! 


CL  Meanwhile 
the  author 
visits  a  harem 
in  Africa,  de- 
livers a  lec- 
ture, witness- 
es a  dozen 
r  o  TO  a  n  <:: 
faithfully  re- 
corded,! air- 
iest 

,:t.  n  d 


Rosen ban m 

C  H  I  C  A  < 


The  L- 


Ul- 


Twenty-four  Days 
On  a  Troopship 


B,/ 

J.  Ralph  Pickell 


C.Meanwhile 
the  author 
visits  a  Karem 
in  Africa,  de- 
livers a  lec- 
ture, witness- 
es a  dozen 
r o man  c  e  s 
faithfully  re- 
corded, lau&hs 
at  the  funniest 
things  which 
ever  hap- 
pened, and 
writes  a  book 
about  it.  This 
is  it. 

Published  by  the 

Rosenbaum 
Review 

CHICAGO 


Copyright,  1919 
By  J.  RALPH  PICKELL 


The  Author  desires  to  acknowledge  his  indebtedness 
to  C.  C.  Campus,  an  Italian  co-laborer,  whose 
sketches  illuminate  these  pages. 


jforetoorli 


HERE  is  a  deeper  purpose  in 
the  publication  of  this  book 
then  the  simple  narration  of 
disjointed  tales  about  a  troop- 
ship, homeward  bound.  The 
voyage  from  Genoa  to  New 
York,  extending  over  a  period 
of  twenty -four  days,  is  a  mere 
incident  in  its  relation  to  the  World  War, 
and  yet  you  must  apprehend  that  the  diffi- 
culties which  have  arisen  in  transporting 
twelve  hundred  six  soldiers  have  been  real, 
even  if  they  are  often  amusing.  The  ships 
which  have  carried  two  million  of  our  men 
to  and  from  foreign  soil  have  been  more  or 
less  like  this  one,  and  even  during  war 
time  similar  comedies  have  been  enacted. 
Many  a  soldier  has  found  his  life  mate 
dressed  in  a  Red  Cross  uniform.  The 
shuttle  of  fate  has  woven  thousands  of 
romances  out  of  the  warp  of  war.  War  is 
a  leveler  of  morals,  but  it  levels  down,  not 
up.  So  we  shall  learn.  Every  solitary 
incident  cited  in  this  book  is  founded  upon 
facts.  I  commend  it  to  you  as  a  rhetorical 
impossibility.  From  a  literary  point  of 
view  it  has  little  merit.  Humanly  speak- 
ing it  is  a  real  production  and  that's  why 
it  will  be  read  with  human  interest.  Peo- 
ple acted  and  I  wrote. 

J.  RALPH  PICKELL 


HIS  NARRATIVE  is  hap- 
pily dedicated  to  all  of  its  read- 
ers who  believe  in  the  poetry 
of  romance  and  the  sunshine 
of  smiles;  but  more  especially 
to  two,  who  if  fate  had  not  so 
ordained,!  should  have  wished 
to  call  them  brothers,  Lieutenant  Frank 
and  Corporal  Ray  Pickell;  also  to  a  very, 
very  young  man,  whose  sole  knowledge  of 
•war  consists  of  slaying  tin  soldiers;  and 
finally  to  a  lieutenant  in  the  United  States 
Navy,  homeward  bound  as  a  fellow  trav- 
eler, to  claim,  in  the  wake  of  Peace,  a 
beautiful  southern  bride. 


Twenty- four  Days  On  a  Troopship 

At  Sea  from  June  23  to  July  17 — A  lady 
with  a  lorgnette,  frantically  rushed  up  and 
down  the  pier.  She  was  shouting  something 
to  any  of  us  who  stood  on  the  B  deck  of  the 
Pesaro,  but  even  those  who  understand 
Italian  couldn't  make  out  what  she  was 
saying. 

She  wept. 

Then  she  screamed,  and  the  pity  of  it  is, 
I  probably  shall  never  know  what  she 
wanted,  for  we  were  leaving  Genoa  very, 
very  slowly,  as  two  tugs  pulted  us  away 
from  the  docks. 

For  three  weeks  I  have  waited  for  this 
boat  to  sail.  Now  we  have  actually  put  out 
to  sea.  There  were  many  with  red  eyes, 
swollen  from  tears,  among  the  passengers; 
though  why  anybody  in  the  world  should 
ever  weep  when  they  are  bound  for  New 
York  is  beyond  me. 

5 


6  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

About  the  first  thing  you  do  when  you 
get  on  the  boat  is  to  "size  up"  the  cabin  in 
which  you  must  sojourn  for  days  to  come. 
My  impression  is  that  I  am  getting  less  for 
more  money  than  upon  any  other  journey  I 
have  ever  made,  but  I  shall  be  alone.  That 
is  some  compensation. 

It  was  common  gossip  just  before  we  came 
on  board  that  today  the  Germans  will  or 
will  not  sign  Peace.  The  general  impres- 
sion is  that  they  will  refuse.  I  have  just 
made  a  wager  with  a  Swiss  that  they  will 
sign.  If  I  win  I'll  have  my  incidental  ex- 
penses paid  for  a  long,  hot  trip. 

This  Swiss  tells  me  that  there  are  thou- 
sands of  Germans  in  his  country  and  none 
of  them  ever  admit  that  their  army  was 
defeated.  Everywhere  I  have  gone,  I  have 
heard  that  same  thing.  Most  everyone  with 
whom  you  come  in  contact  seems  to  think 
the  war  was  ended  just  about  a  month  too 
soon. 

Personally,  I  take  no  stock  in  such  ex- 
pressions. If  there  are  any  readers  of  this 
book  who  think  that  the  German  army  was 
not  decisively  defeated  in  battle,  beaten  to 
a  dead  standstill  and  then  flung  irrevocably 
back,  they  are  welcome  to  their  delusions. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  7 

The  same  with  the  Germans,  too.  In  a  gen- 
eration or  so  the  truth  will  begin  to  dawn 
upon  them,  if  not  sooner. 

I  have  seen  thousands  of  cars,  thousands 
of  cannon,  tons  and  tons  of  ammunition, 
and  millions  and  millions  of  war  equipment 
which  the  Germans  surrendered  after  the 
signing  of  the  armistice,  all  of  it  taken  with- 
out the  direct  loss  of  a  single  life.  If  you 
think  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  sac- 
rificed thousands  of  our  boys  to  have  taken 
that  stuff  while  driving  the  boches  back, 
then  you  and  I  are  traveling  two  different 
lines  of  thought,  and  I  am  going  to  stick  to 
my  route. 

But  without  Peace,  we  embark  under  war 
conditions.  The  police  in  Genoa  gave  me 
permission  to  leave  the  country,  but  before 
they  would  say  "yes"  or  rather  si,  the  Ameri- 
can embassy  at  Rome,  and  the  Consul-Gen- 
eral  at  Genoa  first  gave  their  approval. 
Then  there  was  the  hustle  for  a  ticket.  The 
Lloyd  Sabaudo  transportation  line  officials 
were  even  more  particular  about  my  creden- 
tials than  either  the  police  or  the  official 
representatives  of  the  United  States. 

One  lady  from  Atlanta  who  had  been  ma- 
rooned in  Italy  since  the  war  began  wanted 


8  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

to  get  back  and  she  was  telling  an  official 
her  life  history.  He  asked  her  where  she 
was  born  and  she  replied,  "I  was  born  in 
Atlanta,  Georgia,  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning;  but  I  don't  know  what  date  be- 
cause I  was  too  young  to  remember."  So 
far  as  I  know  she  never  told  them. 

Embarking  upon  an  Italian  boat  is  like 
taking  a  train  which  never  comes.  We 
were  told  to  be  at  the  docks  at  nine  o'clock 
Monday  morning,  this  twenty-third  day  of 
roses  in  June.  Many  came.  Old  men,  young 
men,  Red  Cross  girls,  women  and  children. 
The  sun  shone  hot.  The  shed  into  which 
the  traveling  public  was  herded,  waiting  for 
the  police,  was  covered  with  corrugated  iron, 
which,  instead  of  allowing  the  rays  to  come 
straight  down  and  kill  you,  shattered  and 
scattered  them  so  that  they  hit  you  every- 
where and  melted  you.  We  thought  surely 
that  by  two  o'clock  the  police  would  come, 
as  they  had  not  shown  up  all  morning.  At 
2 130  we  began  to  despair ;  at  three  we  began 
to  swear;  but  at  3:15  the  iron  gate  was 
swung  open  and  three  hundred  of  us,  half 
a  dozen  at  a  time,  were  admitted  to  Italian 
police  headquarters.  All  the  chivalry  that 
I  ever  learned  herding  cattle  in  my  youth, 


ON    A     TROO  PS  HIP  9 

for  we  were  kind  to  the  calves,  has  been 
throttled  after  six  months  traveling  in 
Europe.  I  can  trample  upon  the  necks  of 
women  and  children  with  glee,  and  as  for 
old  ladies  I  simply  eat  them  alive.  So  I  was 
among  the  first  hundred  to  demonstrate  that 
I  am  a  law-abiding  American  citizen  en- 
titled to  return  home. 

What  a  wonderful  opportunity  the  Ital- 
ians are  losing  when  they  fail  to  grant  every 
reasonable  comfort  to  traveling  passengers. 
One's  education  has  not  begun  until  one  has 
seen  Italy,  but  people  will  travel  here  on 
other  lines.  "War"  has  been  the  excuse  for 
so  many  things,  during  four  and  a  half 
years,  that  officials  seem  to  think  they  can 
pursue  any  sort  of  a  course  and  justify  it 
by  saying,  "This  is  war.''  It  isn't. 

Our  boat  was  scheduled  to  sail  at  four. 
At  seven  o'clock  there  \vere  three  blasts  of 
the  whistle,  the  gang  plank  \vas  pulled,  and 
then,  just  as  we  had  started,  the  elderly 
lady  whom  I  first  mentioned  tried  to  stop 
us  with  her  wails.  But  as  I  write  this  we 
are  sailing  the  blue  Mediterranean  bound  for 
Marseilles,  where  we  are  to  take  on  1,200 
doughboys.  There  is  a  forty-five  mile  gale 
blowing  now  and  the  sea  is  very  rough.  In 


10  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

fact,  I  never  imagined  that  the  Mediter- 
ranean could  act  so  ugly.  Personally,  I  am 
not  fond  of  tales  of  mal-de-mer,  but  really 
it  is  interesting  to  note  the  change  which 
comes  over  some  people  when  the  sea  gets 
rough.  Faces  which  were  rosy  red,  when 
the  boat  started,  take  on  an  ashen  hue,  and 
those  who  have  set  sail  for  America  decide 
the  country  must  be  a  terrible  place,  judg- 
ing from  the  first  few  hours  of  the  journey. 
Really,  if  you  can  get  them  to  talk  you  can 
learn  some  surprising  things. 

There  are  just  about  two  things  worth 
while  in  life.  Work  and  people.  On  a  ship 
you  get  to  know  people. 

For  a  long  Atlantic  trip  during  June  and 
July  one  wants  a  deck  chair.  There  are 
none  for  rent  upon  the  boat,  so  you  have 
to  buy  a  very  flimsy  affair  before  you  start 
for  $3.00.  The  deck  steward  wrote  my 
name  upon  the  back  of  a  tag  and  attached 
it  to  my  chair.  The  tag  is  No.  297  and  con- 
tains the  following  information:  "Dampfer 
Moltke.  Gutschein  fur  getranke  und  cigar- 
ren."  That  looks  like  "German,"  which  I 
would  interpret  to  mean  "Steamer  Moltke. 
Check  for  drinks  and  cigars."  Thus  it  would 
seem  that  this  old  steamer  was  formerly 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  11 

owned  by  the  Hamburg-American  line. 
Signs  such  as  "Zu  den  Badern,"  etc.,  are  all 
about  the  ship.  Such  are  the  fortunes  of 
war. 

Among  the  people  one  meets  are  those 
with  varying  names  and  missions.  There  is 
a  very  lovely  woman  with  two  little  girls 
who  sits  at  my  table.  She  is  going  back  to 
Texas,  which  she  claims  is  a  great  big  state. 
She  married  a  Swiss  but  she  maintains  that 
she  is  an  "American"  because  she  was  born 
there,  no  matter  what  the  law  says.  A  lank 
young  fellow  is  on  board  representing  Uncle 
Sam.  It  is  his  business  to  take  care  of  any 
American  soldiers  who  die  on  this  trip.  He 
is  an  embalmer.  I  sincerely  hope  he  is  idle 
all  the  way  over. 

I  talked  for  two  hours  tonight  with  an 
ex-Red  Cross  captain  who  has  been  working 
in  Italy.  The  stories  which  he  told  me  of 
profligate  waste  and  mismanagement  on  the 
part  of  the  Red  Cross  in  Italy  are  appalling. 
I  know  from  actual  knowledge  that  the  Red 
Cross  there  was  known  as  the  "Golden 
Goose"  because  of  the  absolute  profligacy 
with  which  it  did  its  work. 

The  boat  pitches!  The  decks  are  de- 
serted! 


CHAPTER  II. 

This  boat  has  a  motion  all  its  own.  Tech- 
nically, I  suppose  it  would  be  called  "vibra- 
tion," but  it  seems  a  whole  lot  more  than 
that,  i  endeavored  to  repose  last  night  in 
my  berth  but  sleep  was  impossible;  so  I  tried 
the  following  experiment  in  order  to  deter- 
mine accurately  just  how  much  motion  the 
human  body  is  to  sustain  during  this  trip. 
The  steward  brought  me  three  table  forks. 
One  I  suspended  from  the  berth  above  me 
until  the  prongs  were  within  two  and  one- 
quarter  inches  of  my  abdomen ;  then  I  took 
the  other  two  and  fastened  them  at  each 
side  of  the  berth  so  that  the  tines  projected 
toward  my  sides,  leaving  exactly  the  same 
amount  of  space  (two  and  one-quarter 
inches),  between  the  forks  and  me.  I  then 
determined  my  bearings  by  locating  the 
north  star,  took  the  readings  of  the  Ther- 
mometer which  stood  at  exactly  10  Reau- 
mur. The  aneroid  barometer  was  77.  With 
these  facts  before  me,  I  calculated  that  the 
vibrations  to  which  the  human  body  was  sub- 

12 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP     13 

jected  in  the  course  of  6  hours  amounted  to 
exactly  63,300  inches,  or  just  within  five  feet 
of  a  mile.  If  the  vibration  is  maintained 
throughout  our  journey  it  will  be  compara- 
tively easy  to  determine  just  how  far  one 
travels  "extra"  and  unpaid  for.  I  am  going 
to  turn  over  my  data  to  the  National  Geo- 
graphical Society  for  comparison  with  the 
North  Pole  records  of  Mr.  Cook. 

Land  is  in  sight  out  of  my  port  hole  win- 
dow. 

Later:  It  is  not  land.  Just  rocks.  The 
only  possible  purpose  of  these  mountains  is 
to  keep  the  sea  from  overflowing  France. 

We  are  now  approaching  the  harbor  of 
Marseilles.  The  city  hovers  about  the  base 
of  the  mountains.  High  up  on  a  hill  is  a 
church  1,000  years  old.  Pious  pilgrims  from 
all  over  France  visit  it  each  year  but  I  shall 
stick  to  the  boat.  We  have  just  taken  on 
the  pilot. 

We  are  now  passing  into  the  harbor.  Four 
tug  boats  have  this  ship  in  charge.  They 
are  swinging  the  boat  around  to  dock  at 
Number  Ten.  One  can  see  very  plainly  the 
name  of  the  dock.  In  large  capital  letters 
you  distinguish  "R  A  L  P  H". 

So  this  is  my  dock.     I  had  much  rather 


14  TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

have  a  dock  named  after  me  than  a  cigar. 
I  wonder  if  they  know  I  am  on  this  boat. 

An  American  colonel  is  standing  on  the 
pier  and  he  is  shouting  at  the  pilot.  "Dock 
her  on  Number  4."  "Dock  her  on  Number  4." 
Finally,  after  much  gesticulation,  the  pilot 
informs  the  colonel  that  he  doesn't  know 
where  dock  Number  4  is.  The  colonel  shouts 
back:  "The  hell  you  don't.  Follow  my  in- 
structions." 

I  said  he  was  an  American  colonel.  But 
we  docked  at  Number  10  anyway,  for  the 
wind  is  blowing  so  fiercely  and  the  tide  is 
running  so  high  that  we  didn't  dare  go  up 
stream  any  further.  This  means  that  tons 
and  tons  of  stuff  which  were  to  be  loaded  on 
the  boat  at  Number  4  must  be  moved  by  the 
Americans  in  motor  lorries  to  Number  10. 
It  means  that  we  will  be  delayed,  but  one  of 
the  Italian  officers  in  referring  to  it,  said, 
"It  doesn't  matter.  The  Americans  pay  for 
it." 

There  must  be  two  hundred  vessels  of  all 
kinds  in  the  harbor  and  they  are  in  "full 
dress."  Flags  of  many  colors  and  figures 
are  flying.  Someone  says  it  means  that  the 
the  Germans  have  agreed  to  sign  peace.  I 
must  hunt  that  Swiss. 


CHAPTER  III. 

All  yesterday  afternoon  the  swinging 
cranes  on  the  boats  were  working,  loading 
on  stuff  for  the  soldiers  to  eat.  There  are 
bags  and  bags  of  radishes  and  lettuce,  pota- 
toes, carrots,  flour,  and  boxes  and  boxes  of 
canned  goods — jam,  beans,  beef,  molasses, 
oleo,  etc.  If  everything  goes  all  right  we 
will  sail  this  evening  at  6  o'clock.  If  not  we 
will  be  delayed  until  morning,  for  boats  do 
not  leave  the  harbor  at  night  for  fear  of 
striking  floating  mines. 

The  dock  at  which  we  are  anchored  is 
about  two  miles  long.  It  has  been  mostly 
constructed  since  the  war  began.  There  is 
a  high  wall  at  one  side  of  it  facing  the  Med- 
iterranean and  you  may  walk  along  the  top 
of  the  wall,  the  entire  length.  But  the  wind 
is  blowing  so  savagely  and  the  breeze  from 
the  sea  is  so  cold  that  only  a  few  of  us  have 
walked  it.  The  dock  presents  an  animated 
scene.  There  are  scores  of  American  sol- 
diers driving  motor  lorries  up  to  our  ship 
with  the  chow  aforementioned.  The  lorries 

15 


16  TWENTY -FOUR     DAYS 

are  unloaded  by  American  negro  soldiers, 
big  husky  fellows. 

One  may  make  an  interesting  comparison 
because  French  Colonial  soldiers  from  Mo- 
rocco rub  elbows  with  our  black  boys,  while 
guarding  a  lot  of  salvage  consisting  of  old 
guns,  helmets,  discarded  uniforms  and  a  lot 
of  other  rubbish  which  it  seems  to  me  should 
be  burned. 

The  Africans  are  not  so  heavy  set  as  our 
men.  They  are  longer,  leaner  and  as  black 
as  the  blackest  lamp  black.  Our  darkest 
hues  are  like  snow  drops  compared  with  the 
African  Colonials.  Both  wear  khaki,  but  the 
Moroccan  boys  wear  red  caps  with  tassels 
on  them.  I  wonder  what  they  think  of  each 
other.  One  speaks  French  and  the  other 
American. 

There  is  some  good  to  come  out  of  this 
war.  Perhaps  one  of  the  most  far  reaching 
influences  will  be  the  broadened  visions  of 
thousands  who  have  never  seen  much 
further  than  their  home  town.  When  I 
write  of  broadened  vision  I  do  not  mean 
that  it  has  come  to  the  colored  soldiers.  My 
impression  is  that  it  would  have  been  better 
if  they  had  been  left  at  home.  Not  but  what 
some  of  them  have  justified  the  faith  placed 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  17 

in  them  as  fighters,  but  the  social  conditions 
under  which  they  have  lived  in  Europe  are 
not  an  augury  of  good,  after  they  are  re- 
turned home. 

An  interesting  scene  has  just  been  enacted 
which  is  voluble  with  promise  and  some- 
thing else. 

There  are  1,500  pounds  of  bread  to  be 
loaded  upon  this  boat,  but  the  American  offi- 
cers can  find  no  suitable  place  to  store  it  in 
the  hold.  They  want  to  put  it  in  the  pantry 
but  the  captain  is  up-town  and  the  cook  will 
not  allow  it,  and  he  holds  the  key.  Work 
has  been  stopped  on  the  pier  for  two  hours, 
while  the  American  officers  wrangle  with 
the  Italian  officers  about  where  the  bread  is 
to  be  stored.  Neither  understand  each 
other,  so  a  civilian  passenger  is  doing  the 
interpreting.  If  they  do  not  come  to  terms 
very  soon,  the  boat  can  not  sail  today.  The 
problem  then  is  very  simple. 

If  we  are  delayed  one  day  in  starting,  then 
1,500  pounds  of  bread  will  cost  Uncle  Sam 
three  thousand  dollars  ($3,000).  The  offi- 
cers of  the  ship,  who  have  no  authority  to 
act  in  the  absence  of  the  Captain,  should 
worry.  It's  a  good  day's  work  if  they  can 
delay  the  boat  for  $3,000.  Suppose  you  mul- 


18  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

tiply  this  sum  several  thousand  times  in  the 
course  of  the  months  we  have  been  in  war, 
for  we  have  paid  our  way,  not  only  to  trans- 
port and  feed  our  army,  but  in  charity  repre- 
sented by  the  Red  Cross  and  several  other 
organizations.  We  have  paid  for  every  foot 
of  ground  we  have  used,  for  every  stick  of 
wood,  for  every  foot  of  road ;  paid  in  Ameri- 
can dollars  which  have  been  raised  by  taxes, 
bonds,  and  in  respect  to  charity,  by  threats. 
No  wonder  the  average  American  officer 
tells  you  he  feels  that  the  best  thing  we  can 
do  is  to  get  back  home  and  stay  there. 

The  probabilities  are  this  boat  will  sail  to- 
day, and  we  will  save  the  $3,000  for  Uncle 
Sam,  but  in  hundreds  of  cases  they  have  not 
sailed  and  we  have  paid  the  price.  I  write 
that  I  think  we  will  sail  because  the  Ameri- 
can Captain  has  just  come  on  board.  "To 
hell  with  these  dagoes.  Don't  pay  any  more 
attention  to  them  than  if  they  were  not  here. 
Bust  in  the  door  of  that  pantry  and  put  the 
bread  in  if  they  don't  open  it  up."  So  the 
steam  cranes  are  working  again  now  and 
the  boys  will  be  marched  on  at  1 130  (per- 
haps). 

May  I  add  by  way  of  explanation  that 
while  the  rugged  Americanism  exemplified 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  19 

by  the  army  captain  always  appeals  to  me,  I 
am  reporting  it  simply  to  show  you  in  a  very 
limited  way  what  is  happening  over  here. 
This  is  only  one  boat,  and  just  a  few  soldiers 
can  be  transported  upon  it.  Multiply  this 
boat  many  hundred  times,  and  these  soldiers 
many  thousand  times  and  you  will  begin  to 
appreciate  the  magnitude  of  the  criss-cross 
problems  which  have  prevailed  in  this  war, 
and  which  have  practically  alienated  one  na- 
tion from  another,  so  far  as  the  soldiers  are 
concerned. 

It  was  just  three  o'clock  when  a  long  line 
of  khaki-clad  men  started  up  the  gang-plank 
of  the  Pesaro.  For  nearly  two  miles  they 
were  strung  out  along  the  walk  on  top  of 
the  sea-wall,  tired  from  a  four-mile  march 
over  the  dustiest  roads  in  Christendom;  each 
man  bent  beneath  his  load,  for  certainly  he 
carried  his  physical  limit.  Some  led  dogs, 
another  a  goat,  one  carried  a  6-foot  fan,  and 
it  is  practically  certain  that  all  had  gathered 
in  some  souvenirs.  At  4:35  every  man  (be- 
tween 1,200  and  1,300  of  them)  had  gotten 
on  board.  The  men  had  been  checked  off, 
had  been  bunked  and  so  far  as  we  could  tell 
the  boat  was  ready  to  shove  off.  That  work 
was  evidence  of  the  best  efficiency  I  have 


20  TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

seen  since  I  have  been  in  Europe.  There  was 
no  confusion,  no  waste  of  time.  "Step 
lively"  and  "make  her  snappy"  was  the  rule 
which  was  obeyed. 

As  soon  as  the  soldiers  had  gone  down 
into  the  bowels  of  this  boat,  and  had  located 
the  few  square  feet  which  had  been  allocated 
to  each,  they  began  to  pile  out  again  for 
fresh  air.  They  were  seen  in  the  rigging, 
astride  the  beams,  in  fact,  in  every  spot 
where  it  was  safe  or  unsafe  to  be. 

Someone  with  a  cornet  began  to  play, 
"There  are  smiles"  and  five  hundred  voices 
took  it  up.  There  were  magnified  yells, 
much  jesting  and  some  scuffling.  A  sergeant 
blew  a  whistle  and  all  came  to  attention. 

"Every  man  is  responsible  for  his  bunk 
which  must  be  kept  clean.  No  man  will  be 
allowed  on  deck  unless  he  has  his  puttees 
and  jacket  on.  The  penalty  will  be  severe 
for  any  who  disobey  this  rule." 

So  said  the  sergeant  and  then  he  added: 
"Supper  at  7  o'clock";  that  was  followed  by 
a  loud  chorus  of  yells. 

The  tugs  tugged  while  the  whistles 
whistled  for  6:30  o'clock;  it  was  good-bye 
France,  bound  for  Gibraltar.  We  were  off. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

There  are  two  or  three  companies  of  negro 
troops  on  board.  Some  of  the  officers  have 
good  stories  to  tell  about  them.  Each  offi- 
cer usually  tells  about  the  same  story,  not 
knowing  the  other  one  has  already  related 
it,  and  one  of  them  was  to  this  effect:  A 
colored  soldier  had  been  disobedient  and  the 
captain  told  him  that  it  would  be  necessary 
to  shoot  him.  So  he  sent  him  to  his  tent  to 
get  his  revolver.  The  fellow  went  all  right 
and  returned  with  the  weapon.  The  captain 
asked  him  how  many  cartridges  there  were 
in  the  gun. 

"Fo'r  sir."  Then,  said  the  captain,  "Do 
you  think  that  will  be  enough  to  kill  you?" 
"Yes,  sir,  yes,  sir,  Cap'n,  cose  if  you  miss  me 
with  the  fust  one  you  sho're  aint  gwine  see 
no  nigger  for  the  second  shot." 

There  are  a  number  of  American  officers, 
splendid  looking  fellows.  There  are  excep- 
tions to  all  rules,  but  as  a  class  I  do  not  think 
the  American  officer  measures  up  to  the 
standard  of  either  the  English  or  the  French. 

21 


22  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

There  is  a  reason,  of  course.  We  are  not  a 
warring  nation  and  our  men  have  not  been 
schooled  for  it.  The  English  and  the  French 
officers  are  warriors,  that's  all,  especially  the 
English;  but  there  is  no  better  soldier  walks 
in  shoe  leather  than  the  American  dough- 
boy. Believe  me,  the  Yank  is  there  when 
it  comes  to  a  fight. 

The  inexperience  of  our  officers  cost  many 
and  many  a  life.  With  proper  training  they 
should  be  the  best  because  they  have  the 
brains  and  ability;  but  you  cannot  turn  out 
good  officers  by  intensive  training  in  three 
months'  time.  It  is  absurd  to  suppose  it  can 
be  done.  Of  course,  when  there  is  a  war  and 
we  have  to  fight  we  do  the  best  we  can,  but 
in  a  democracy  like  ours,  every  man,  and 
every  man's  son,  ought  to  know  something 
about  defensive  warfare,  and  the  only  prac- 
tical method  is  universal  training.  We  shall 
keep  out  of  future  wars  if  we  keep  strong 
enough  to  make  it  unprofitable  for  people 
to  jump  on  us. 

There  are  more  than  fifteen  hundred  men, 
including  the  soldiers  and  crew  in  the  hold 
of  this  ship.  A  great  many  of  the  soldiers 
are  those  who  have  been  in  hospitals  or  have 
been  detained  in  workhouses  for  some  vio- 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  23 

lation  of  army  rules,  or  have  been  absent 
without  leave  (A.  W.  O.  L.).  Yet,  there  are 
many  who  wear  wound  stripes.  They  are 
not  a  typical  American  bunch  by  any  means, 
but  I  have  talked  with  many  of  them  and 
they  will  all  be  bona  fide  Americans  when 
they  get  home.  They  have  had  enough  of 
"foreign"  life  and  "foreign"  ways.  The 
United  States  will  look  better  to  them  than 
it  has  ever  looked  before. 

I  just  saw  a  fight  between  a  doughboy  and 
a  colored  soldier.  The  negro  bit  the  white 
boy  very  savagely  on  the  neck  and  face.  A 
couple  of  sergeants  parted  them,  but  the 
white  swears  vengeance  on  the  black  before 
the  journey  is  ended.  Probably  nothing  will 
be  done  to  discipline  them  because  the  offi- 
cers realize  that  they  are  now  going  home 
and  the  tension  is  great.  It  really  is  a  won- 
der that  more  fights  do  not  occur. 

One  cannot  tell  from  looking  at  the  pas- 
sengers on  this  boat  whether  you  are  riding 
first,  second  or  third  class.  Here  is  a  poly- 
glot of  most  all  the  races  under  the  sun.  We 
civilians  are  on  it  by  virtue  of  the  authority 
of  the  American  Naval  Attache  at  Rome. 
He  has  allotted  about  300  berths  for  civilians 
and  they  are  all  taken.  We  have  the  New 


24  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

York  macaroni  queen.  She  is  a  wizened  old 
woman,  with  a  parched  sun  brown  skin, 
dressed  in  a  lurid  yellow  costume.  This  is 
her  tenth  trip  across  the  pond  to  Italy.  She 
got  caught  there  during  the  war  and  has  not 
been  able  to  get  home.  Now  she  is  broke. 

There  is  a  mother  and  daughter  who  have 
been  in  Italy  for  six  years,  the  daughter  hav- 
ing recovered  during  that  time  from  incipi- 
ent consumption.  They,  too,  are  going 
home. 

We  have  a  missionary  widow  en  route 
from  Persia.  Her  husband  was  killed  just 
before  she  left  by  a  Kurd  who  wanted  to  run 
off  with  their  helper  and  the  minister  ob- 
jected. The  poor  woman  is  in  tears  most 
of  the  time.  I  mean  the  wife. 

I  was  just  talking  to  the  soldier  on  guard 
at  the  first-class  entrance,  near  the  stern  of 
the  boat.  He  lives  in  Illinois.  I  asked  him 
what  had  been  his  most  thrilling  experience 
during  his  ten  months  in  France.  He  then 
told  me  how  it  was  his  habitual  custom  to 
be  broke  long  before  pay  day  each  month, 
his  allotment  being  about  ten  dollars  after 
his  mother  gets  hers.  "When  a  guy  can  get 
a  good  hair  cut  and  some  big  eats  there  ain't 
nothing  better."  That  was  his  sole  joy  once 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  25 

each  month — a  hair  cut  and  something  ex- 
tra to  eat.  Yet,  most  of  us  are  dissatisfied. 
War  meant  nothing  to  him  if  he  could  have 
those  two  essentials  every  thirty  days. 

A  lieutenant  has  been  trying  to  interest  a 
Red  Cross  worker  in  himself. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Last  night  there  was  a  semblance  of  a  con- 
cert in  the  first-class  music  saloon.  A  lieu- 
tenant, a  buck  private  and  a  Red  Cross  girl 
played  the  violin,  cornet  and  piano,  but  the 
impromptu  vocalization  of  the  privates  in 
the  hold  was  much  more  inspiring.  It 
seems  strange  that  there  is  really  no  music 
on  this  boat.  No  orchestra  of  any  kind.  It 
is  simply  packed  with  all  kinds  of  people 
huddled  together  for  from  fifteen  to  twenty 
days  or  more,  every  one  taking  life  most 
philosophically  because  most  of  us  are  going 
home.  There  really  is  no  excuse  for  the  lack 
of  service,  the  absence  of  sanitation  and 
most  everything  which  could  make  a  trip 
comfortable,  except  "war"  and  now  the  war 
is  over. 

We  have  one  very  pretty  lady.  Everyone 
is  attracted  by  her  comeliness.  Yesterday 
she  was  taking  an  afternoon  constitutional 
on  the  promenade  deck.  You  know  the 
skirts  are  made  rather  short  this  year  and 
hers  is  no  exception.  Along  the  rear  seam 

26 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP    27 

of  her  silk  stocking  a  few  threads  had  given 
away  and  the  aperture  was  really  noticeable, 
even  to  a  novice  like  me.  The  lady  occupy- 
ing the  deck  chair  next  to  me  called  my  at- 
tention to  it,  for  anything  on  board  this 
ship  (which  doesn't  even  furnish  us  with  a 
few  notes  of  news  snatched  from  the  air)  is 
at  once  a  matter  of  comment.  The  lady  said, 
"Dear,  dear,  I  hope  she  doesn't  find  it  out 
until  tonight.  How  embarrassing  it  would 
be  to  her  now  if  she  knew  it." 

And  yet  we  men  oftentimes  think  we  are 
responsible  for  the  philosophy  of  "What 
they  don't  know,  don't  hurt  'em." 

This  is  certainly  languorous  weather.  It 
is  sticky  hot.  Off  the  port  side  is  Spain, 
consisting  of  white  chalky  mountains  and 
uninhabited  hills.  Some  time  today  we 
should  reach  Gibraltar,  where  we  take  on 
coal.  The  steamer  is  rushing  along  at  the 
rate  of  ten  knots  per  hour. 

I  went  on  deck  a  while  ago  and  that  poor 
missionary  whose  husband  was  killed  sat 
there  crying.  One  of  the  ladies  asked  me 
to  go  over  and  say  something  comforting  to 
her.  Should  I  or  should  I  not?  Those 
things  are  so  hard. 


28  TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

"Madam,"  said  I,  "since  the  Kurds  beat 
the  whey  out  of  your  husband  wouldn't  it 
be  comforting  if  you  could  get  a  Cheese 
named  after  him?" 

Alas,  I  am  often  misunderstood! 

For  two  days  now  the  American  officers 
who  ride  with  us  in  the  first  class  cabins 
have  been  fed  on  bully  beef.  And  thereon 
hangs  a  happy  tale.  The  lieutenant  in 
charge  of  placing  the  supplies  of  food  on  the 
boat  for  officers  and  men  wanted  to  be  sure 
that  the  officers'  food  got  on,  so  that  came 
first.  The  result  was  that  tons  of  stuff  were 
piled  on  top  of  it  which  has  not  yet  been 
moved  off,  and  the  officers  have  threatened 
to  mutiny.  Tonight  they  got  a  better  feed. 

Most  of  the  doughboys  who  sprawl  around 
on  the  decks,  climb  the  rigging  and  get  on 
and  in  everything  that  will  hold  them,  have 
shed  their  khaki  and  today  are  donned  in 
blue  jeans.  They  certainly  do  not  present 
that  trim  appearance  we  noticed  when  they 
marched  up  the  pier  to  the  boat. 

A  captain  is  now  a  rival  of  the  lieutenant. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  rock  which  made  a  life  insurance  com- 
pany famous  towers  above  the  sea  directly 
in  front  of  us.  We  have  anchored  in  Gibral- 
tar Bay.  Fifteen  boats  loaded  with  many 
men  are  plying  about  and  are  calling  out  in 
understandable  English  that  they  have  lem- 
ons, figs,  oranges,  and  strawberries  for  sale. 
They  started  to  do  a  thriving  business  as 
the  dough-boys  ordered  freely,  lifting  up 
their  purchases  by  means  of  a  string  and  a 
sack  from  the  water  below.  However,  the 
crafty  fruit  venders  soon  found  it  advisable 
to  do  a  cash  in  advance  business  and  trade 
slacked  at  once. 

The  Port  of  Gibraltar  is  controlled  by  the 
British.  Gibraltar  is  much  more  than  a  rock. 
It  is  a  city  and  a  fort ;  a  most  interesting  vil- 
lage, too,  for  there  are  a  large  number  of 
(British)  Indian  stores,  filled  with  goods  of 
varied  kinds  and  hues  from  the  Orient.  One 
may  hire  a  carriage  for  a  few  shillings  and 
drive  on  the  mainland  through  the  neutral 
gate  into  Spain,  to  the  town  of  Linea. 

29 


30  TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

Linea  is  typically  a  Spanish  city,  consist- 
ing of  one-story  buildings  painted  and 
whitewashed  a  dazzling  white.  There  is  to 
be  a  bull  fight  in  the  city  tomorrow  and  it 
it  quite  probable  the  bulk  of  our  boat  will  go. 
Inasmuch  as  I  have  already  witnessed  one 
bull  fight,  I  shall  spend  Sunday  whiling  away 
the  wearisome  hours  in  a  more  interesting 
and  less  gory  fashion  than  by  watching 
horses  gutted  by  angry  bulls. 

They  are  putting  loads  and  loads  of  sand 
on  this  boat  for  ballast.  I  wonder  why. 
Shipping  space  is  valuable.  We  have  not 
begun  to  coal.  The  officers  will  take  the 
soldiers  for  a  hike  around  Gibraltar  tomor- 
row if  they  can  find  tugs  to  land  them. 
are  four  miles  from  shore. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

An  army  chaplain,  between  puffs  of  a  cig- 
arette, informed  us  soon  after  breakfast  (?) 
that  there  would  be  services  this  morning. 
If  those  army  fellows  will  stop  playing  stud 
poker  for  a  while  he  may  get  a  crowd.  There 
are  some  very  pretty  Red  Cross  girls  on 
board,  but  unless  a  fellow  is  at  least  a  major 
he  doesn't  have  much  of  a  show — except 
with  one.  She  likes  lieutenants  and  cap- 
tains. 


31 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

At  nine  o'clock  this  morning  about  400 
soldiers  were  taken  off  the  boat  on  a  tender 
and  transferred  to  the  parkway  around  Gib- 
raltar, where  they  proceeded  to  raise  sweat 
and  dust  for  two  hours.  They  were  closely 
guarded,  but  in  spite  of  that  two  dropped 
out  of  the  lines. 

Every  vessel  in  the  harbor,  including  two 
American  men-of-war,  are  decorated  with 
the  colors  of  all  the  Allies  and  "associate/' 
Last  evening  at  about  eight  o'clock  the  guns 
on  the  heights  of  Gibraltar  fired  101  salutes 
and  the  fog  horn  on  this  old  tub  was  turned 
loose  for  half  an  hour.  We  understand  that 
it  is  on  account  of  the  signing  of  Peace.  This 
is  somewhat  mystifying  for  when  we  left 
Marseilles  five  days  ago  the  ships  in  the  har- 
bor were  decorated  in  a  similar  manner,  as 
I  have  recounted.  There  must  have  been 
some  delay,  but  we  get  no  news  on  this  boat 
and  will  get  none  until  we  reach  America. 
We  do  not  know  when  that  will  be.  Some 

32 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP      33 

coal  was  put  on  the  boat  today,  the  third 
day  we  have  waited  in  Gibraltar  Bay. 

The  signing  of  Peace  afforded  me  a  little 
extra  cash  on  account  of  my  wager  which 
was  not  a  bet,  so  I  went  ashore  this  morn- 
ing and  chartered  a  boat  for  Africa  tomor- 
row. I  had  to  guarantee  $420  for  the  trip. 
Two  others  were  kind  enough  to  join  me  in 
the  enterprise.  This  evening  I  announced  to 
the  assembled  diners  at  dinner  time  that  one 
of  our  enterprising  passengers  (me)  had 
chartered  a  boat  and  all  those  who  desired 
might  visit  Tangier  tomorrow,  etc. 

I  then  went  on  to  tell  them  how  the  fa- 
mous and  intrepid  Livingston  had  started 
his  explorations  at  Tangier  (which  he  never 
did)  and  I  painted  such  a  rosy  picture  of  the 
beauties  of  a  typically  Moorish  town  that 
enough  have  volunteered  at  $5  per  capita  to 
much  more  than  repay  my  guarantee.  Thus 
I  get  another  chapter  and  one  more  day  will 
be  lopped  off  this  infernal  waiting  for  coal. 

Gibraltar  was  certainly  in  festive  form 
today.  The  whole  village  of  ten  thousand 
people  was  festooned  with  flags.  Im- 
promptu marches  were  staged  by  the  school 
children  who  carried  tin  pans  for  drums, 
and  by  the  elders,  many  of  whom  carried  an 


34     TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

effervescing  load,  besides  mounted  cartoons 
of  the  ex-Kaiser.  The  same  Holland  visitor 
was  strung  up  in  effigy  all  over  the  city,  and 
this  morning  the  guns  of  the  fort  again  fired 
101  times  as  a  welcome  to  Peace. 

The  city  was  really  quaintly  picturesque; 
(they  say  England  wants  to  turn  Gibraltar 
over  to  America).  It  is  peopled  largely  by 
Spanish.  The  Spanish  people  love  color,  so 
they  hung  out  their  bed  spreads,  their  red 
rugs  and  everything  in  the  house  that  had 
color  in  it.  There  was  also  much  lace  flut- 
tering from  the  windows. 

Gibraltar  has  some  very  quaint  little  shops 
with  East  Indian  salesmen  and  the  crowd, 
which  went  over  today,  bought  liberally. 

The  Americans  seem  to  think  and  act  as 
if  our  country  is  going  dry. 

This  morning  while  the  soldiers  were 
parading  one  of  our  boys  called  out  to  an 
Englishman,  "Hi  say,  Tommy,  'ave  you  'ad 
your  tea?"  Quick  as  a  flash  the  Tommy 
came  back,  "Yes,  but  you  better  'ave  your 
beer  'ere."  Tomorrow  Tangier. 

Both  the  captain  and  the  lieutenant  and 
the  Red  Cross  girl  are  going. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Today  at  noon  the  coalers  struck,  and 
now  it  is  rumored  that  we  will  have  to  re- 
main here  in  this  harbor  for  another  week. 
One  can  adjust  one's  self  to  almost  any  kind 
of  circumstances  but  remaining  for  days  in 
a  harbor,  with  the.  hot  sun  pouring  down 
upon  you  by  day  and  the  cabins  like  fur- 
naces by  night,  is  not  exactly  my  idea  of  a 
joy-life. 

I  can  read  and  I  can  write  and  I  can  con- 
verse and  I  can  find  a  few  unoccupied  feet 
of  deck  to  walk  upon.  That's  all.  In  fact, 
we  have  all  of  the  comforts  here  that  one  has 
in  jail,  except  that  we  can  get  off  the  boat, 
on  parole,  and  today  we  went  to  Tangiers, 
which  is  a  part  of  this  story. 

Entertainment  is  very  remote  on  this  boat. 
Nearly  all  the  talkers  are  now  telling  their 
stories  for  the  tenth  time  and  there  seems 
to  be  nothing  new  under  the  sun.  For  in- 
stance, a  very  charming  young  lady  said  to 
me  the  other  morning  at  breakfast  ( ?) : 

35 


36  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

"What  hand  do  you  use  to  stir  your  coffee  ?" 
and  I  innocently  replied,  "Usually  my 
right." 

Whereupon  she  suggested  that  I  ought  to 
use  my  spoon.  I  waited  two  days  and  then 
I  said  to  her  mother  in  the  presence  of  the 
daughter.  "Mrs.  X,  there  are  some  scandal- 
ous stories  going  the  rounds  of  this  boat 
about  your  daughter  and  personally  I  have 
some  reason  to  believe  they  are  true."  The 
mother  was  horrified  and  the  daughter  was 
mystified  and  when  they  asked  me  what  I 
had  heard.  I  told  them  to  lean  over  closer  so 
no  one  would  hear.  (Mother  and  daughter 
very  much  interested  with  pained  expres- 
sions on  their  faces.)  "I  am  tojd  (I  said  in 
a  very  loud  whisper  so  every  one  at  the  table 
could  hear)  that  since  we  left  Genoa  (O 
madam,  spare  me,  I  must  not  repeat  idle 
gossip).  ("Go  on,  go  on,"  they  cried.) 
"Well,  I  am  told  very  confidentially  that 
since  we  left  Genoa  (sob)  there  have  been 
two  be(i)rths  in  your  cabin."  (Mother  wild 
and  daughter  outraged.  Called  me  a  "nasty 
thing.") 

So  we  went  to  Tangier,  Africa,  a  city  of 
the  Moors. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  37 

I  have  already  told  you  how  we  came  to 
charter  the  boat.  At  half  past  eight  this 
morning  a  large  steam  tug  pulled  up  along- 
side this  Pesaro  ship  and  its  "business  man- 
ager" proceeded  to  do  business  with  me.  I 
handed  him  a  long  list  of  names  of  those 
who  had  promised  to  go  to  Tangier.  Instead 
of  furnishing  tickets  or  remaining  on  the 
gangway  of  his  boat,  he  insisted  upon  stay- 
ing in  the  comfortable  reading  room  of  this 
floating  ship  to  collect  the  money.  He  never 
even  made  a  record  of  the  first  forty  or  fifty 
dollars  he  took  in.  The  result  was  that  when 
every  one  in  sight  had  paid,  he  had  about 
half  enough  money.  I  was  mystified.  Had 
all  my  friends  backed  out?  Was  I  stuck? 
We  went  down  to  the  boat  and  took  a  look. 
It  was  loaded  full.  Then  the  process  of 
weeding  out  those  who  had  paid  and  those 
who  had  not  paid  was  begun. 

Our  departure  was  delayed  one  hour,  but 
finally  we  were  off  with  120  on  board,  12  of 
whom  never  paid  upon  advice  from  me.  That 
number  should  have  represented  a  profit  to 
me  above  my  guarantee  but  not  having  a 
written  contract  with  the  company,  its 
agent  insisted  on  keeping  all  the  money.  I 
didn't  care  because  my  salary  goes  on  just 


38  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

the  same  whether  I  work  or  not.  I  am  not 
trying  to  make  money,  but  if  the  thing  had 
gone  the  other  way  I  would  have  been  finan- 
cially bumped. 

I  asked  the  Chief  Steward  last  night  to 
put  up  a  lunch  for  eighty  people,  suggesting 
that  as  we  would  be  away  today,  and  the 
boat  would  profit  from  it;  that  the  least  he 
could  do  was  to  concoct  some  sandwiches. 
He  was  very  glad  to  do  it,  but  this  morning 
when  he  delivered  the  lunch  he  wanted  to 
collect  $80.  I  told  him  he  was  laboring  un- 
der a  delusion;  that  it  was  not  my  business 
to  feed  the  passengers  on  the  boat  and  then 
he  told  me  in  Italian  what  he  thought  of  me. 
I  reciprocated  in  American,  with  the  sug- 
gestion that  he  keep  the  sandwiches  and 
feed  them  to  the  fishes;  but  he  relented  and 
put  them  on  the  boat — they  were  much  en- 
joyed. 

It  is  a  three  hour  trip  to  Tangier  across 
the  Strait  of  Gibraltar  (where  many  a  ship 
has  gone  down  during  this  war).  If  it  is  as 
rough  as  it  was  yesterday  it  takes  four  hours. 
For  several  miles  we  sailed  close  to  the  Span- 
ish coast.  Here  and  there  one  could  see  on 
a  mountain  top  the  remains  of  old  Moor  ob- 
servation towers.  Washington  Irving  and 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  39 

the  Conquest  of  Granada  became  more  clear. 
The  desert  coasts  seemed  deserted.  Hardly 
a  living  thing  was  to  be  seen,  either  of  plant 
or  animal  life.  Once  we  did  spy  a  mule 
caravan  along  the  beach  but  it  was  so  far 
away  many  thought  the  mules  were  camels. 
Just  before  we  struck  directly  across  the 
Strait  we  got  a  good  view  of  the  ancient 
and  walled  city  of  Tarifa  on  the  Spanish 
coast.  Then  we  went  for  Africa. 

There  is  no  harbor  at  Tangier,  so  our  little 
boat  had  to  anchor  in  a  very  rough  sea  about 
a  mile  from  shore.  Moors,  dressed  in  tu- 
nics or  baggy  pajamas  with  big  broad  red 
belts,  red  turban  caps  and  kimona  shirts, 
swarmed  about  the  boat  begging  for  the  op- 
portunity to  take  us  ashore.  Many  of  them 
were  very  bright  looking  fellows  and  cer- 
tainly they  are  linguists,  for  some  of  them 
spoke  English,  French,  Italian,  German,  and 
Spanish.  The  African  zone  which  we  visited 
is  controlled  by  France. 

Tangier,  a  Moorish  city  whose  buildings 
date  back  to  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
era,  is  located  on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic 
where  one  may  repose  on  the  summit  of  some 
lofty  hills,  almost  mountains,  and  watch  the 
caravans  of  the  sea  pass  into  the  Strait,  con- 


40  TWENTY-FOUR    D 

necting  the  Mediterranean  with  the  Atlan- 
tic, which  at  the  narrowest  point  is  about 
twelve  miles  wide. 

Thus  our  first  view  of  Tangier  presented 
a  very  white  stone  city  to  us;  the  buildings 
roofed  with  tile  and  with  streaks  of  blue  in 
the  white  paint  that  might  have  been  put 
there  to  match  the  sea. 

It  was  a  striking  picture  even  if  we  did 
approach  it  in  a  boat  which  threatened  to 
capsize  every  minute  as  it  was  greatly  over- 
loaded, and  the  waves  rocked  resentfully. 

We  were  finally  landed  at  a  dilapidated 
dock  and  proceeded  up  a  steep  slope  to  the 
city.  Tradesmen  swarmed  around  us  by 
the  hundred,  speaking  the  Moorish  or  Arab- 
ian language,  punctuated  with  what  little 
English  and  other  languages  the  barterers 
knew. 

Having  traveled  a  few  places  in  my  time, 
I  was  forewarned  by  intuition  that  if  I 
wanted  to  really  see  the  sights  nothing  could 
be  of  more  service  than  two  good-looking 
American  women.  I  therefore  gallantly  of- 
fered to  escort  the  best  looking  couple  on 
the  boat,  one  a  married  lady  of  44  (?)  years, 
but  looking  chic  and  much  younger,  and  a 
beautiful  girl  of  22. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  41 

Being  wise  as  well  as  beautiful,  they  read- 
ily accepted  my  gallant  proffer  and  we  were 
off.  As  the  hills  on  which  the  town  of  Tan- 
gier was  built  are  very  steep  and  the  streets 
very  narrow,  I  hired  three  donkeys  and  a 
guide.  The  girl  was  a  good  rider  but  the 
married  lady  shied  at  the  donkey  and  pro- 
tested, but  in  vain.  Amid  many  screams  we 
deposited  her  on  the  patient  little  animal, 
which  she  declared  she  could  never  ride,  and 
set  off  up  narrow  streets  filled  with  shops 
and  dervishes  and  madly  talking  people. 

To  get  ahead  of  my  story  this  same  lady 
declared,  when  we  returned  to  the  boat  that 
henceforth  she  would  take  to  donkey  riding; 
that  she  never  had  enjoyed  herself  so  much 
in  her  life.  Dear  little  donkies,  how  do  they 
do  it? 

For  an  hour  we  rode  in  narrow  lanes  of 
brilliant  morning  glories  and  pungent  gera- 
niums. We  stopped  once  to  visit  a  Moorish 
castle  which  was  built  in  the  year  300,  ac- 
cording to  Mahomet  calculations.  I  shall 
not  describe  the  castle  except  you  must  re- 
member that  Moorish  architecture  is  char- 
acterized by  perfect  squares,  serrated  with 
pointed  projections,  and  domes.  It  is  simple 
and  to  my  mind  exceedingly  beautiful. 


42  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

Now  I  am  about  to  record  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  experiences  of  my  life  and  one 
which  is  not  likely  ever  to  be  duplicated.  I 
had  always  had  a  lurking  desire  to  see  the 
interior  of  a  harem.  My  companions  felt 
the  same  way,  so  I  insisted  that  the  guide 
take  me  to  one.  Protesting  much,  he  led  us 
to  the  Governor's  Palace.  We  proceeded 
along  very  narrow,  ill-smelling  streets,  up 
steep  hills,  down  precipitous  alleys  and  up 
again,  to  see  on  the  summit  of  the  hill  a  per- 
fectly square  and  very  white  building.  There 
were  streaks  of  pink  in  the  paint — just  as  if 
geraniums  had  been  smeared  into  it.  There 
was  a  roof  garden  on  top  and  an  enormous 
knocker  on  the  door.  I  wanted  that 
knocker.  I  tapped  it  loudly  twice. 

While  waiting  for  an  answer  the  guide 
told  me  that  if  I  saw  the  wives  or  associates 
of  the  Governor,  the  penalty  for  me  was 
death. 

We  had  passed  many  women  on  the 
streets  whose  faces  were  entirely  shrouded. 
One  could  just  see  their  eyes  and  sometimes 
their  noses.  Finally  a  very  black  maid  came 
to  the  door  and  I  indicated,  not  speaking 
Moorish,  that  we  wished  to  enter,  at  the 
same  time  slipping  her  a  very  silver  dollar. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  43 

She  disappeared  but  came  back  in  about  five 
minutes  and  invited  the  ladies  to  enter,  but 
not  me. 

Making  a  show  of  gallantry  as  if  it  didn't 
matter  about  me,  the  ladies  then  went  in. 
Now  I  will  say  that  they  did  not  at  first  ap- 
preciate what  I  had  led  them  into;  but  they 
went  joyfully  in  and  the  old  Governor  or 
Bey,  who  was  stretched  out  upon  the  floor, 
rose  to  greet  them.  They  didn't  recognize 
him,  as  they  thought  he  was  simply  a 
servant. 

In  the  meantime  I  was  waiting  at  the  door 
in  a  broiling  hot  sun  as  the  sea  breeze  didn't 
strike  us  on  that  side  of  the  house.  Soon  a 
handsome  boy  about  twelve  years  of  age 
came  up  the  steps  and  as  he  passed  I  handed 
the  amazed  youngster  another  very  shiny 
dollar.  He  left  me  outside  wondering  what 
the  inside  of  a  harem  was  like.  I  even  went 
so  far  as  to  go  up  to  the  door  and  try  to  peer 
through  the  stained  glass  but  a  very  black 
girl  dressed  in  very  large  ear  rings  came  over 
and  locked  the  door.  Seconds  passed  and 
the  ladies  did  not  return.  Minutes  seemed 
merging  into  hours.  I  found  out  afterwards 
that  they  both  talked  French  and  through 
the  boy  who  had  gone  in  with  my  dollar,  had 


44  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

learned  that  the  fat  old  man  reposing  on  a 
divan  was  the  Bey  of  Tangier,  so  they  made 
amends  in  a  most  gracious  manner,  mean- 
while taking  in  the  harem  and  some  twenty- 
two  respective  brides  of  many  ages,  hues  and 
sizes. 

All  this  time  those  silver  dollars  had  been 
working  an  alchemic  change  in  the  hearts 
of  the  recipients.  Perhaps  there  were  many 
more  servants  and  probably  they  wanted 
some  dollars,  too?  At  any  rate,  the  colored 
dame  returned  to  announce  that  the  "Senor" 
might  enter. 

Let  me  begin  again,  for  this  is  interesting. 

I  approached  the  house  between  high 
stone  walls  whitewashed  or  painted  very 
white.  The  house  was  square,  and  all  around 
the  roof  were  small  spires  about  a  foot  high, 
shaped  like  wedges.  The  first  door  I  came 
to  was  a  very  heavy  steel  one  (it  might  have 
been  bronze)  on  which  was  located  the  fine 
old  knocker.  I  had  passed  through  this  door 
and  entered  a  hall  in  which  there  were  mat- 
ted Moor  cushions,  if  I  had  wished  to  sit 
down.  At  the  end  of  the  hall  was  the  door 
with  stained  glass  through  which  I  had  tried 
to  look.  Now  it  was  open  and  I  might  enter. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  45 

Me,  in  a  harem — twenty-two  wives — 
somewhere  —  the  sun  —  shining  through  — 
something — which  gave  forth — weird  lights 
— of  rainbow  colors  —  Africa  —  Tangier — a 
harem — a  harem — a  harem. 

Soon,  however,  the  house  settled.  It 
stopped  rocking.  I  looked  down.  My  feet 
stood  upon  mosaic  work.  My  knees  trem- 
bled. My  eyes  looked  up  to  see  that  directly 
above  us  there  was  what  we  would  call  a 
sky  light,  but  the  light  which  came  through 
it  was  diffused.  Thus  I  had  visions  of  rain- 
bows. On  the  second  floor  was  a  square  bal- 
cony, with  small  marble  pillars.  Looked 
much  like  the  box  arrangement  of  a  theatre. 
Directly  in  front  of  me  was  a  magnificent 
Persian  rug,  the  kind  you  dream  about. 
Over  against  the  wall  was  a  long  mat  about 
a  foot  from  the  floor.  The  mat  rested  on 
cushions  which  were  very  soft.  (I  got  a 
chance  to  feel  them.)  The  mat  was  covered 
with  an  oriental  piece  of  some  kind.  On  that 
mat  reposed  the  Bey.  When  the  old  gentle- 
man saw  me  he  must  have  felt  that  two  kin- 
dred souls  had  met.  He  arose,  stretched  out 
his  hand  and  I  grasped  it,  at  the  same  time 
assuring  him  that  it  was  all  my  pleasure. 
He  couldn't  understand  me  except  that  there 


46  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

must  have  been  a  light  in  my  face  which  was 
eloquent.  Anyway,  in  very  good  Moorish, 
he  reciprocated.  He  then  invited  me  to  be 
seated,  which  I  didn't.  I  simply  stood  and 
gazed  about.  To  my  left  was  a  bed  chamber, 
with  no  door  to  obscure  my  vision.  Two 
square  pillars  with  an  arch  connecting  them 
formed  the  entrance.  A  small  rug  lay  at  the 
portal  and  directly  at  the  back  of  the  rug 
was  more  matting  on  cushions  against  the 
side  of  the  wall.  A  step  forward  and  a  crane 
of  the  neck  revealed  the  same  arrangement 
around  the  whole  room.  There  were  sleep- 
ing quarters  for  seven  of  the  twenty-two  in 
that  place,  providing  the  two  which  slept  at 
the  ends  were  not  over  five  feet  two,  and  he 
had  them  all  sizes. 

On  my  right  was  another  bedroom  where 
the  servants  of  color  reposed.  I  was  not 
interested.  A  little  sideways  and  backward 
was  an  open  space  on  the  mosaic  floor  on 
which  was  displayed  all  sorts  of  beautiful 
brasserie  as  if  it  had  been  arranged  for  sale. 
There  were  instruments  for  making  tea,  cof- 
fee and  for  cooking.  A  door  was  thrown 
open,  revealing  what  we  would  call  a  pantry, 
very  small  with  no  window  in  it.  That  was 
the  kitchen. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  47 

I  glanced  at  the  marble  stairway  and 
something  said  to  me  as  something  does 
sometimes: 

"My  boy,  lift  up  your  eyes;  come  up 
higher."  Clearly  it  was  an  inspiration.  I 
gazed  at  the  Governor,  who  was  now 
stretched  out  in  not  too  graceful  a  fashion 
upon  the  matting  and  cushions  which  I 
should  call  a  divan.  His  skin  was  a  swarthy 
dark  color;  he  was  fat;  fit  to  kill;  he  wore  a 
tunic  and  a  red  sash,  but  his  slippers,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  oriental  custom,  had  been 
removed.  His  feet  were  large  and  his  Van 
Dyke  beard  was  black.  He  had  a  moustache 
to  match.  I  concede  that  I  should  not  have 
been  his  equal  in  a  physical  contest  unless 
I  had  caught  him  off  his  guard.  Again  with 
that  mystical  spiritualism  which  pervades 
some  of  us,  he  read  in  my  face  the  call  which 
I  had  had  a  few  minutes  before,  and  with  a 
wave  of  the  hand  denoting  authority  bade 
me  to  go  up  the  marble  stairway.  So  I  went. 
Half  way  up,  the  stairs  circled  around,  and 
right  at  the  circle  there  was  an  old  Moorish 
clock,  one  of  the  kind  grandfather  used  to 
talk  about,  only  it  was  much  different.  Per- 
haps you  have  seen  the  inlaid  Moorish  flint 
lock  guns.  That's  what  the  clock  was.  Its 


48  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

chimes  were  like  a  juicy  beefsteak;  they 
were  so  tender.  At  the  top  of  the  stairs,  I 
noticed  for  the  first  time,  hanging  from  the 
center  of  the  glass  roof,  a  marvelous  cut 
glass  chandelier.  I  walked  around  the  bal- 
cony, looking  down  at  the  old  fellow  below, 
but  he  didn't  look  up,  so  quickly  had  I  gained 
his  complete  confidence.  Then  I  peered  into 
a  room  which  was  a  vision. 

It  was  about  eight  feet  wide  and  twenty- 
five  feet  long.  From  the  center  hung  an- 
other cut  glass  chandelier.  On  the  floor 
were  beautiful  rugs,  and  on  the  walls  hand- 
some tapestries.  There  were  divans  along 
the  walls  for  seven  persons  but  none  at  the 
ends  of  the  room,  for  at  both  ends  of  the 
place,  which  had  no  windows  in  it,  there 
were  couches  of  repose.  It  wrould  be  wicked 
to  call  them  beds,  for  they  were  not.  The  one 
on  the  right  was  raised  four  feet  from  the 
floor.  The  first  layer  was  springs,  very 
heavy  yet  resilient  springs.  On  the  springs 
was  a  mattress  made  of  the  down  of  many 
ducks,  very  soft.  The  mattress  was  covered 
with  something  that  felt  like  it  was  felt.  I 
can't  name  it.  It  was  cool  to  the  touch. 
Over  this  was  a  pale  blue  silken  sheet.  The 
sheet  was  followed  by  a  pink  one  of  the  same 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  49 

material  and  then  over  that  was  another 
silken  coverlet  on  which  a  living  likeness  of 
some  patron  saint  of  the  Moors  had  been 
worked,  probably  Mahomet.  The  pillow 
was  one  piece,  absolutely  round.  That 
really  looked  uncomfortable.  In  front  of  the 
bed  were  heavy  purple  curtains  which  could 
be  drawn  but  now  they  were  parted  and  a 
silken  mosquito  netting  protected  the  edi- 
fice from  my  irreverent  gaze  (after  I  had 
made  my  investigations). 

I  will  not  attempt  a  description  of  the 
other  downy  divan  because  it  was  much  like 
its  twin.  There  was  a  real  bureau  into  which 
I  did  not  look  but  on  its  marble  top  were 
several  Moor  turbans  and  a  pair  of  ear  rings 
with  emeralds  in  them  as  big  as  cats  eyes. 

The  ladies'?  Shucks!  I  didn't  see  them. 
I'm  too  young  to  die.  Besides,  one  Ameri- 
can girl  is  worth  a  million  times  more  than 
every  oriental  dame  from  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  to  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 

A  little  way  outside  of  the  harem  we 
passed  a  house  where  the  blinds  were  partly 
down.  At  the  front  door  some  woman  was 
wailing  and  kissing  the  door.  It  was  pa- 
thetic in  the  extreme.  We  glanced  through 
an  open  window  to  see  a  coffin  in  the  room. 


50  TW  ENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

Soon  a  Moorish  funeral  was  wending  its  way 
through  the  town,  the  casket  carried  upon 
the  shoulders  of  the  bearers.  Mourners  in 
white  robes  followed,  chanting  some  weird 
music  and  jangling  cymbals  and  tamborines. 
The  people  stood  at  salute  with  hats  off 
when  the  cavalcade  passed. 

Our  donkeys  rounded  the  corner  of  a  nar- 
row street  and  we  came  face  to  face  with 
one  of  the  weirdest  blackest  figures  I  have 
ever  seen.  He  was  dressed  in  many  span- 
gles, beads  and  bells.  In  his  hand  the  old 
fellow  held  cymbals  which  he  beat  together 
and  when  he  did  one  of  his  entertaining 
stunts  he  made  many  funny  grimaces  with 
his  face  and  all  its  appendages.  His  danc- 
ing, his  facial  expressions,  his  blackness,  his 
noise,  struck  a  responsive  chord  In  my  mem- 
ory which  startled  me.  And  then  I  remem- 
bered having  seen  him  at  the  exposition  in 
St.  Louis  about  sixteen  years  ago. 

This  was  Tangier,  Africa.  What  a  world! 
I  confirmed  my  conviction  for  the  old  fellow 
spoke  very  good  English.  We  shook  hands 
as  old  friends. 

But  back  we  must  go  to  our  boat.  The 
Moors  got  us  in  a  launch  in  one  of  the  chop- 
piest seas  I  have  ever  been  on  and  then 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  51 

stopped  still  for  ten  minutes  until  they  had 
collected  some  extra  fares.  Just  about  the 
time  some  of  the  American  officers  had  de- 
cided to  throw  them  over  board  they  started 
the  boat  and  back  we  came  rolling  merrily 
to  the  Pesaro. 

I  cannot  report  upon  progress  of  our  he- 
roes and  heroine.    I  was  busy. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Yesterday  they  put  on  a  little  coal  but  the 
heavers  struck  again  at  noon  and  we  are  still 
without  enough  coal  to  carry  us  to  the 
Azores.  There  are  all  sorts  of  rumors  fly- 
ing about.  Some  say  the  Bolshevikis  have 
it  in  for  us  because  this  is  a  German  boat. 
Others  say  there  is  trouble  between  the  Ital- 
ians and  the  English.  We  passengers  only 
know  that  we  are  laying  here  in  this  harbor 
when  we  ought  to  be  on  our  way  home.  The 
dough-boys  are  getting  very  restless.  There 
have  been  a  few  fights.  "Take  us  home  or 
land  us,"  they  say.  The  American  officers 
on  board  may  get  busy. 

A  petty  officer  on  this  liner  had  an  argu- 
ment yesterday  with  one  of  our  boys.  He 
drew  a  knife  but  didn't  get  to  use  it.  He 
ought  to  recover  in  six  months  if  he  receives 
the  proper  kind  of  medical  attention. 


52 


CHAPTER  XL 

Knowing  that  we  are  doomed  to  remain 
here  for  another  twenty-four  hours  as  the 
bolshies  are  coaling  again,  I  chartered  a 
small  launch  for  four  of  us  to  be  here  at  the 
Pesaro  this  morning  at  9:30,  to  take  us  to 
Algeciras,  Spain.  My  boat  failed  to  show 
up  at  the  appointed  hour  but  another,  which 
an  American  officer  had  ordered,  did  come, 
and  I  mistook  it  for  mine.  So  we  four 
boarded  it  and  shoved  off  amidst  much 
shouting  by  the  dough-boys  who  have  noth- 
ing else  to  do  but  poke  fun  at  those  of  us 
who  can  leave  the  boat.  We  were  not  more 
than  ten  feet  away  from  the  Pesaro  when  the 
officer  came  running  down  the  steps  in  a  very 
threatening  manner  and  shouted  to  me  to 
"Bring  back  that  boat,  bring  it  back  I  say," 
at  the  same  time  shaking  both  fists  at  me. 

He  gave  me  the  first  good  opening  I  have 
ever  had,  and  I  surely  took  advantage  of 
it  for  in  the  purest  of  English  I  shouted  back 
at  the  top  of  my  voice,  "Go  to  hell,  will  you." 
He  must  have  been  very  popular  with  the 

53 


54  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

boys,  judging  from  the  cheers  which  I  heard. 
I  meant  no  disrespect  whatsoever  to  the 
American  officer,  but  I  did  mean  most 
vehemently  that  if  he  thought  he  could 
"order"  me  to  obey  him  he  had  another 
think  coming.  If  he  had  spoken  respect- 
fully, as  one  American  to  another,  he  prob- 
ably would  have  had  his  boat  back  and  I 
might  not  have  seen  Algeciras.  But  this 
damn-you  business  doesn't  go  with  me,  for 
I,  too,  am  a  fighter. 

Algeciras  is  another  typical  Spanish  vil- 
lage located  on  the  sea.  The  ladies  have 
not  adopted  the  Parisian  fashion  so  we 
found  them  wearing  the  veils  or  mantillas 
with  very  high  tortoise  shell  combs  in  their 
hair, — an  ancient  and  I  hope  honored  cus- 
tom. 

There  is  one  place  really  worth  seeing. 
That  is  the  hotel  Reina  Christina  in  which 
the  famous  Algeciras  conference  was  held 
between  the  French  and  the  Germans  when 
they  had  some  trouble  a  few  years  ago, 
which  threatened  to  precipitate  a  European 
war.  The  Reina  Christina  hostelry  ought 
to  be  renowned  the  world  around.  The 
building  itself — of  the  true  Spanish  type — is 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  55 

a  dream.     And  it  is  simply  inundated  with 
bowers  of  multi-tinted  flowers. 

There  is  a  rumor  abroad  that  we  are  to 
leave  tomorrow.  This  boat  is  controlled  by 
the  Admiralty  at  London  through  our  own 
Navy  representative  who  is  located  at  Gib- 
raltar. Specific  orders  were  issued  yester- 
day for  the  boat  to  proceed  but  the  Italian 
captain  disobeyed  them.  We  were  ordered 
to  proceed  to  the  Azores  and  coal,  but  if  we 
had  done  that  the  Lloyd  Sabaudo  line  would 
have  lost  its  commission  on  the  profits  of 
the  sale  of  the  coal  which  we  are  supposed 
to  take  on  here,  as  the  U.  S.  has  its  own  coal 
at  the  Azores.  So  we  are  still  here.  But 
not  for  long. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

This  boat  will  sail  when  the  captain  gets 
ready.  He  has  had  orders  from  the  Naval 
officials  of  the  American  Admiralty  but  we 
are  still  here.  Outside,  as  I  write,  I  can  hear 
a  hundred  chattering,  swearing,  screeching 
men  who  are  pouring  coal  or  rather  coal 
dust  into  the  hold  of  this  vessel.  They  are 
dumping  it  in  by  the  bushel  basket  full.  It 
seems  rather  an  endless  task  to  fill  up  the 
coal  bunks  by  that  process,  but  they  have 
systematized  their  method  of  working  and 
really  the  baskets  are  emptied  with  despatch. 
Almost  a  week  in  port,  waiting  and  wonder- 
ing and  writing. 

And  this  is  our  glorious  day  of  Indepen- 
dence, the  Fourth  of  July! 

If  we  do  not  sail  this  evening  a  number 
of  us  will  celebrate  upon  the  battleship 
Pittsburgh  which  is  anchored  here.  If  we 
do  sail,  then  that  will  be  celebration  enough. 
There  is  to  be  an  American  baseball  game  at 
Gibraltar  this  afternoon,  so  that  means  we 
will  not  raise  the  anchor  until  six  o'clock 

56 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP    57 

anyway.  Meanwhile  rumors  are  afloat  that 
some  one  may  try  to  do  to  this  old  German 
ship  what  was  done  to  the  interned  fleet  at 
Scapa  Flow.  The  few  women  who  are  on 
board  are  petulant  and  hysterical.  Such 
rumors  affect  them  temperamentally.  We 
are  practically  out  of  touch  with  the  world. 
There  is  very  little  news  of  any  kind  and 
none  from  America.  There  are  some  old 
English  papers  for  sale  in  Gibraltar,  but  I 
could  have  bought  the  same  issues  in  Genoa 
before  I  left,  June  23.  Eleven  days  from 
Genoa  to  Gibraltar  via  Marseilles,  which  is 
a  good  48  hours'  run. 

It  might  be  much  worse.  There  are  some 
very  pleasant  people  on  board.  The  food  is 
better  than  when  we  first  started.  We  have 
been  able  to  get  to  land  most  every  day  for 
a  few  hours.  A  Lieutenant  of  the  U.  S. 
Navy  here  at  Gibraltar  received  orders  to 
return  home  and  as  there  was  no  cabin  for 
him  I  have  shared  mine  which  really  for  me 
is  a  delightful  privilege.  I  should  like  to 
name  this  splendid  American  youth  but 
some  of  the  things  which  I  have  already 
written,  and  others  which  I  shall  write,  have 
been  told  to  me  by  him  so  it  is  obvious  that 
my  informer  must  travel  incognito  with  the 


58  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

readers  of  this  book.  As  a  writer  I  too  often 
find  this  must  be  the  case;  to  many  splendid 
men  and  women  am  I  indebted  for  informa- 
tion which  you  read,  and  yet  I  must  pay 
them  only  a  silent  tribute. 

We  did  not  get  off  today,  so  this  has  been 
a  glorious  Fourth.  At  noon  the  sea  became 
so  rough  that  it  was  necessary  to  stop  coal- 
ing or  the  barges  would  have  been  swamped. 
The  waves  were  leaping  so  high  and  so  wild 
that  the  regular  launch  which  runs  between 
the  Pesaro  and  the  shore  did  not  come  out. 
However,  500  dough-boys  went  ashore  this 
morning  because  a  ball  game  was  to  be 
played  this  afternoon  between  the  soldiers 
and  the  blue  jackets  from  the  Pittsburgh. 

My  bunk  mate,  the  Naval  official,  offered 
to  take  a  few  of  us  on  shore  in  his  navy 
launch.  We  eagerly  accepted.  The  water 
leaped  over  the  boat  just  as  if  we  had  been 
riding  on  a  raft.  A  shore  trip  which  should 
take  only  thirty  minutes  consumed  one  hour 
and  fifteen  minutes.  We  were  thoroughly 
drenched  but  on  shore  the  hot  sun  and  wind 
soon  dried  us  out  and  we  were  ready  for  the 
ball  game. 

About  i, (XX)  Americans,  a  dozen  or  two  of 
us  being  civilians,  gathered  in  a  ball  park, 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  59 

while,  between  tunes  by  the  Marine  band, 
eight  innings  of  fairly  good  baseball  were 
played,  the  Navy  winning  by  a  score  of  5 
to  i.  The  dough-boys  had  had  no  chance 
to  practice  and  they  were  hardly  a  match 
for  the  elongated  fireman  hurler  from  the 
Pittsburgh.  The  repartee  was  most  inter- 
esting. 

One  dough-boy  was  hit  with  a  foul  ball 
and  immediately  a  hundred  men  yelled, 
"Give  him  a  wound  stripe."  When  they  en- 
couraged their  pitcher  they  called  out, 
"Come  on  buddie,  you  know  we  get  salmon 
salad  tonight." 

Another,  reflecting  the  feeling  of  us  all 
said,  "Take  your  time,  buddie,  take  your 
time,  we'll  be  here  for  a  week  yet." 

There  were  two  umpires,  one  for  the  Navy 
and  the  other  for  the  Army.  Whenever 
there  was  a  close  decision  the  Navy  man  al- 
ways favored  the  Army  and  the  Army  man 
always  favored  the  Navy  so  we  had  the  par- 
adoxical situation  of  the  Navy  roasting  its 
own  umpire  and  the  Army  doing  likewise. 
It  was  thoroughly  an  American  outing  and 
was  the  most  unique  Fourth  of  July  I  have 
ever  spent,  but  the  best  was  yet  to  come. 


60  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

We  boarded  the  Pittsburgh  about  6  o'clock 
and  we  left  at  midnight  on  the  Admiral's 
launch  for  the  Pesaro.  In  the  meantime  we 
had  enjoyed  a  real  American  meal  with  tur- 
key and  gravy  and  all  the  "trimmings."  I 
say  it  was  real  American  for  it  was  the  first 
one  I  had  attended  in  six  months  where  no 
wines  have  been  served. 

The  Pittsburgh  is  a  very  luxurious  battle- 
ship, more  fitted  for  cruising  than  for  fight- 
ing. In  fact  that  is  about  all  it  is  good  for  as 
its  guns  are  not  heavy  enough  to  afford  it 
much  protection  in  case  of  a  fight  with  a  real 
man-of-war  and  its  speed  is  not  great  enough 
to  enable  it  to  get  away  from  a  swift  fighter. 
But  as  an  Admiral's  boat  it  is  a  beautiful 
hotel,  as  spotlessly  clean  as  anything  you 
can  possibly  imagine.  After  the  most  deli- 
cious dinner  had  been  served,  and  cigarettes 
had  gone  the  rounds,  the  table  was  taken 
out  of  the  mess  room,  the  Victrola  turned 
on  and  the  ladies  and  officers  danced.  I 
think  the  officers  were  the  handsomest  and 
altogether  the  finest  set  of  men  I  have  ever 
seen  on  a  battleship.  Very  keen,  delightful- 
ly American,  and  reserved  until  they  got  ac- 
quainted. It  took  half  an  hour  for  the  stiff- 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  61 

ness  to  wear  off  but  when  it  did  conversa- 
tion began  to  flow  and  the  fun  was  on. 

There  was  an  excellent  moving  picture 
show  but  the  pictures  were  not  so  attractive 
as  the  men  who  watched  it.  I  suppose  500 
or  600  blue  jackets  dressed  in  spotless  white 
were  on  the  decks.  The  big  guns  had  been 
swung  to  port  and  starboard  so  that  a  can- 
vas could  be  stretched,  and  Julian  Eltinge 
went  through  several  of  his  clever  womanly 
stunts,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  officers 
and  men.  Admiral  and  Mrs.  Grant  honored 
us  with  their  presence.  Between  each  reel 
the  band  played  American  airs.  With  the 
heavens  for  a  canvas,  the  stars  for  light  and 
the  water  for  a  setting  the  picture  was  beau- 
tiful and  truly  inspiring.  I  promised  to  send 
the  men  copies  of  the  books  I  have  written 
and  this  one  too,  which  I  hope  finds  them 
somewhere  on  the  high  seas,  and  conveys 
to  them  my  deepest  appreciation  for  a  most 
delightful  experience.  It  was  a  perfectly 
sane,  grand,  glorious  Fourth. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  dough-boys  are  now  coaling  this  ship 
so  it  seems  that  we  might  get  away  tonight. 
Only  a  few  of  them  can  be  used  at  a  time 
and  they  are  volunteers.  It  is  surprising  to 
see  how  many  of  the  colored  fellows  took 
the  dirty  dusty  job  and  it  was  most  amusing 
to  watch  them.  They  soon  began  to  yell  at 
the  Spanish  who  remained  on  the  barges  to 
help  them  and  they  sent  the  baskets  up  so 
fast  that  the  "Wops,"  as  they  call  them, 
could  not  handle  the  coal.  Some  fellow  in 
the  hold  stuck  his  head  out  of  a  port  hole 
and  gesticulated  wildly  in  protestation  but 
the  darkies  kept  singing  "step  lively"  and 
injected  into  the  conversation  every  French 
word  or  phrase  they  have  picked  up, 
whether  it  suited  the  action  or  not.  It  cer- 
tainly was  highly  amusing  as  well  as  coal- 
ing. The  intrepid  foreigner  who  stuck  his 
head  out  of  a  port  hole  was  carried  away  in 
a  launch.  He  will  probably  awake  on  the 
Sabbath  day  in  a  very  sore  state  of  mind  and 

62 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP     63 

skull,  for  a  well  directed  chunk  of  coal  si- 
lenced him  and  his  protesting  song. 

After  we  had  hung  here  for  three  days 
there  was  much  blustery  talk  in  the  charac- 
teristic American  fashion  about  starting  this 
boat  and  I  put  some  faith  in  it.  It  sounded 
splendid  and  when  it  was  learned  that  the 
Americans  had  taken  charge  of  things  a 
cheer  went  up  from  all  over  the  boat.  I  am 
afraid,  however,  that  the  actual  results  rep- 
resent what  has  transpired  over  here  a  great 
many  times  since  the  war  began. 

We've  done  a  lot  of  swearing  and  bluster- 
ing but  the  Europeans  have  taken  their  own 
blessed  time,  and  they  have  done  things  in 
their  own  way. 

The  only  thing  we  hear  now  is  that  when 
this  boat  reaches  New  York  the  whole  Ital- 
ian crew  from  the  captain  down  will  be  ar- 
rested. 

If  you  read  this  story  as  I  intend  it  to  be 
read,  being  a  narrative  of  many  details,  you 
will  or  should  appreciate  what  it  means  to 
wage  war  3,000  miles  away.  You  will  also 
appreciate,  I  think,  why  I  return  home  feel- 
ing that  I  am  not  leaving  one  friendly  Gov- 
ernment or  press  behind.  If  I  had  my  way 
about  it  I  should  call  the  dough-boys  to- 


64  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

gether,  organize  an  expedition  and  throw 
every  member  of  the  crew  into  the  sea  and 
then  start  home.  There  are  plenty  of  naval 
men  on  this  boat  who  know  how  to  run  a 
ship.  We  would  precipitate  international 
complications  but  they  are  already  started 
anyway  so  we  better  get  home.  Besides, 
there  has  already  been  some  blood  shed,  and 
the  members  of  the  crew  who  are  selling 
cognac  to  our  boys  surreptitiously  have  been 
responsible  for  it. 

It  is  now  past  eleven  o'clock  at  night  and 
the  dough-boys  are  still  coaling  so  that  we 
will  be  off  early  tomorrow  morning.  (Sun- 
day.) This  has  put  a  great  deal  of  natural 
and  artificial  spirits  into  the  crowd.  The 
soldiers  are  celebrating.  A  splendid  cornet- 
ist  is  sitting  in  the  rigging  playing  merry 
tunes  and  the  boys  are  singing.  A  big  black 
Negro  was  hauled  up  from  the  hold  and  he 
did  a  buck  and  wing  dance  which  caught  the 
fancy  of  the  crowd,  as  a  thousand  or  more  of 
us  were  gathered  astern  to  listen. 

Then  there  occurred  one  of  the  funniest 
incidents  I  have  ever  witnessed  in  my  life. 
Imagine  all  of  us  assembled  with  nothing  in 
particular  to  do.  We  wanted  entertainment 
but  there  seemed  to  be  no  one  to  entertain. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  65 

The  singing  of  the  soldiers  was  fine,  if  not 
altogether  harmonious,  but  something  was 
needed  to  explode  the  pent  up  passions  of  a 
week  of  watchful  waiting. 

Finally  some  of  the  soldiers  began  to  yell 
for  "Murphy,"  "Where's  Pat?"  "Come  on, 
Murphy,"  etc.  Eventually  a  coal  begrimed 
soldier  appeared.  He  was  so  deeply  covered 
with  the  dirt  that  many  thought  he  was  a 
Negro.  It  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  when  he 
entered  a  little  circle,  which  the  soldiers 
made  for  him,  that  he  was  under  the  influ- 
ence of  liquor. 

He  politely  bowed,  doffing  his  service  cap, 
at  the  same  time  lurching  a  little  to  the  port 
side.  Suddenly  as  if  by  inspiration  half  a 
hundred  called  out,  "Murphy,  Murphy,  when 
are  we  going  home?"  Murphy  straightened 
up  and  saluted  his  numerous  interrogators, 
and  then  in  a  voice  which  could  be  heard  all 
over  the  ship,  replied: 

"When  (head  bobbed)  we  (hie)  get  a  fav- 
vor-rable  wind." 

Nobody  on  the  footstool  but  an  Irishman 
possesses  such  wit  as  that.  Dear  old  Mur- 
phy then  bowed  repeatedly  to  his  yelling, 
cheering  admirers  and  to  cap  the  climax 


66     TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

took  his  identification  tag  from  around 
his  neck  and  thrust  it  in  his  eye,  like  a  mon- 
ocle. I  shall  never  be  sorry  that  Murphy 
had  had  too  much  to  drink. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

I  was  on  deck  early  this  morning,  perhaps 
about  five  o'clock.  The  sun  was  just  creep- 
ing over  Gibraltar  and  the  coast  of  Spain 
seemed  slipping  away.  It  was  a  fact.  At 
last  we  were  bound  for  New  York.  Within 
the  Strait  one  could  count  several  ocean 
steamers.  The  African  coast  seemed  so  near 
you  could  almost  reach  out  and  touch  it. 
There  were  no  clouds  above  the  mountains 
so  that  you  could  see  an  African  village 
many,  many  miles  away.  Just  as  we  swung 
our  prow  toward  the  Atlantic  the  bright 
morning  sun  struck  the  ocean  mists  in  front 
of  us  and  a  rainbow  flared  in  arched  triumph 
before  us.  A  good  omen  of  the  sea. 

I  was  asked  to  say  something  in  behalf  of 
the  two  hundred  soldiers  who  had  coaled  the 
ship. 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen :  Permit  me  to  an- 
nounce that  after  a  fitful  week  of  medita- 
tion, agitation  and  villification  we  are  now 
upon  the  high  seas,  bound  for  New  York. 
(Cheers.)  We  are  not  sailing  today  by  vir- 

67 


68  TW  ENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

tue  of  the  fact  that  we  have  purchased  tick- 
ets which  entitle  us  to  passage,  but  we  are 
sailing  because  the  American  dough-boys 
have  put  into  the  bunkers  the  coal  that 
makes  the  steam,  that  makes  the  wheels  go 
round.  (Long  and  continued  applause.) 
Now  I  am  told  that  many  of  those  gallant 
men  have  wives  and  children  in  the  States. 
I  am  also  informed  that  the  same  fate  awaits 
most  of  the  rest  of  the  others  upon  our  hap- 
py return.  Therefore,  if  you  agree  with  me 
that  these  men  have  done  a  handsome  thing 
(handsome  borrowed  from  President  Wil- 
son) for  us  will  you  join  me  in  making  a 
very  modest  contribution,  to  purchase  each 
of  them  an  extra  package  of  cigarettes. 
(Cries  of  yes,  yes.)  Since  I  apprehend  that 
this  request  strikes  a  responsive  chord  in 
your  hearts  please  be  kind  enough  to  hand 
your  contributions  to  my  esteemed  friend 
the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Secretary,  that  one  with  a 
lean  and  hungry  look."  (Laughter  and  ap- 
plause.) 

There  were  two  hundred  of  our  boys  who 
helped  to  coal  this  ship  without  one  cent  of 
pay.  In  fact  the  company  which  furnished 
the  coal  collects  for  the  labor  of  our  men. 
They  tried  and  did  put  it  over  on  them  by 
saying  that  "two  more  barges"  were  to  be 
loaded.  But  before  those  were  finished  oth- 
ers were  brought  up.  Then  the  boys  were 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  69 

told  that  80  baskets  from  those  barges  must 
go  on.  When  the  eighty  had  been  loaded 
they  were  told  that  50  more  were  needed  to 
trim  the  ship,  and  so  on. 

About  two  o'clock  this  morning  they 
passed  around  the  word  that  they  would  put 
on  just  a  certain  number  more  and  then 
"this  ship  will  sail,"  with  emphasis.  It  did. 
And  it  makes  one  almost  shudder  to  think 
what  would  have  happened  if  it  had  not. 

This  is  what  our  army  has  been  up  against 
ever  since  it  came  across.  We  Americans 
do  not  understand  foreigners  and  certainly 
they  do  not  understand  us.  We've  simply 
got  to  start  in  getting  acquainted  with  the 
world  and  getting  the  world  acquainted 
with  us.  In  the  meantime  we  must  main- 
tain an  Army  and  a  Navy  which  will  protect 
our  country.  We  must  rely  upon  our  own 
strength. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  fourteenth  day  dawned,  with  a  roll 
which  is  discomforting  to  many  unfortu- 
nates. Those  who  have  not  settled  up  have 
settled  down,  so  that  the  few  of  us  who  are 
not  disturbed  by  the  rhythmic  roll  of  the 
cradle  of  the  deep  have  the  promenade  deck 
to  ourselves,  which  is  our  compensation. 
Nothing  of  interest  happened  yesterday  ex- 
cept an  incident  which  has  been  much  talked 
about.  This  ship  ought  to  be  renamed.  Call 
it  "The  Ship  for  Scandal."  Very  few  repu- 
tations will  escape  unscathed.  The  story 
that  is  going  the  rounds  about  me,  however, 
is  not  so  bad,  but  I  am  not  proud  of  it.  It 
is  said  that  I  nightly  don  pink  silk  pajamas, 
fringed  at  the  bottom  with  laces  and  blue 
ribbons.  This  is  the  first  time  in  my  life  I 
have  ever  been  accused  of  being  effeminate. 
However,  in  order  to  make  the  legend  seem 
real  I  borrowed  a  pair  of  panties  from  a  lady 
on  the  ship  and  arrayed  myself  in  them  as 
the  story  went.  A  party  was  conducted  to 
my  cabin  when  I  feigned  sleep  and  there  I 

70 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP     71 

lay  in  all  my  lacial  and  ribbonly  splendor. 
Seeing  is  believing  and  the  skeptics  who 
could  not  harmonize  my  daily  life  with  pink 
pajamas  and  laces  now  are  saying  that  "It 
takes  all  kinds  of  people  to  make  a  world." 
When  we  left  Genoa  a  mother  of  two  chil- 
dren purchased  some  deck  chairs  and  placed 
them  upon  a  chosen  quarter  where  they  have 
since  remained.  An  Italian  passenger  made 
up  his  mind  yesterday,  after  the  lady  had 
properly  pre-empted  the  spot  for  thirteen 
days,  that  he  wanted  that  place  for  his  chair 
and  he  took  it.  The  lady,  rilled  with  right- 
eous indignation,  protested  much.  Where- 
upon the  Italian  passenger  said  very  vehe- 
mently that  "You  are  not  a  lady."  His  re- 
marks were  passed  around  among  the 
women  on  board  and  then  the  tale  came  to 
the  men.  But  it  had  no  sooner  started  than 
an  army  captain  from  Oregon  jumped  from 
his  deck  chair  and  sought  out  the  heroine 
and  the  villain.  The  latter  denied  having 
made  the  ungentlemanly  remark,  but  the 
lady  said  he  did,  and  some  Red  Cross  girls, 
who  overheard  him,  confirmed  her  state- 
ment. The  Oregon  Captain  then  bade  the 
Italian  to  move  his  chair.  He  did.  Then 
he  asked  him  to  make  a  public  apology  for 


72  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

his  statement  to  the  lady.  Before  a  large 
crowd  of  interested  spectators  he  publicly 
apologized  but  not  until  the  Oregon  captain 
had  informed  him  he  would  either  be  landed 
in  New  York  on  a  stretcher  or  deposited  in 
the  deep  blue  sea  if  he  didn't  "come  across." 
Thus  the  only  interesting  incident  of  the 
Sabbath  day  ended  peacefully  with  a  victory 
for  the  man  from  Oregon.  It  is  interesting 
to  speculate  upon  what  would  have  been  the 
fate  of  the  Italian  if  the  captain  had  been 
from  Mississippi. 

Today  all  of  the  soldiers  who  coaled  this 
ship  were  given  a  special  dinner  as  a  token 
of  our  esteem,  in  addition  to  cigarettes.  We 
would  still  be  in  Gibraltar  if  the  dough-boys 
had  not  finished  the  coaling. 

One  of  the  Red  Cross  girls  inadvertently 
blew  her  upper  teeth  into  the  ocean  today 
while  suffering  from  a  gastronomic  flivver. 
Now  the  young  lieutenant  who  has  been 
keeping  her  company  for  two  weeks  is  boast- 
ing about  how  little  he  cared  for  her — that 
it  was  "just  to  pass  away  the  time"  and  is 
making  other  ungallant  remarks.  Love  is 
inconstant  especially  upon  a  rough  sea. 

There  is  one  woman  on  board  who  is 
pretty  even  if  she  has  passed  forty-five  or 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  73 

six  years.  Last  night  when  the  boat  began 
to  pitch  she  sought  comfort  in  her  own  neg- 
ligee fashion.  This  incident  resulted  in  a 
request  to  the  Poet  Laureate  to  write  a  poem 
in  commemoration  of  the  event.  Accord- 
ingly, I  wrote  the  following  which  was  set 
to  music  by  an  English  lady  on  board. 

When  Mother  Shimmies  in  Her  Shimmies. 

There's  a  song  in  my  heart, 
Like  the  waves  of  the  sea, 

There's  joy  in  my  soul, 
Which  satisfies  me, 

There's  a  thrill  in  my  spine, 
Which  nothing  can  cure, 

For  mother  has  shimmied 
In  her  shimmies  demure. 

She  pranced  on  the  deck, 
Of  this  steamer  last  night, 

Just  robed  in  her  shimmies, 
O,  boys — 'Twas  a  sight, 

The  stars  in  the  heavens, 
Looked  down  with  a  frown, 

To  see  mother  so  shimmied 
In  her  shimmeying  gown. 


74    TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

The  watch  in  the  look-out 

Had  cried,  "All  is  well" 
He  must  have  meant  mother, 

White  robed  as  a  belle, 
The  ship  which  was  doing 

Twelve  knots  to  the  hour, 
Struck  out  like  a  racer, 

Testing  its  power. 

For  the  wind  of  the  sea, 

Which  threatened  to  fail, 
Caught  up  mother's  shimmies 

Which  it  used  for  a  sail, 
And  we  sped  through  the  night 

As  if  seeking  for  fame, 
'Twas  all  on  account 

Of  the  shimmeying  dame. 

O,  boys,  we  don't  care, 

If  we  never  get  home, 
If  mother  will  shimmy 

So  long  as  we  roam. 

Thus  it  so  happens  that  one,  who  is  seri- 
ously inclined  and  given  much  to  introspec- 
tion, finds  himself  the  center  of  smiling  gos- 
sip in  mid-ocean,  because  an  incident  and  a 
silly  ditty  strikes  a  popular  chord. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Late  yesterday  afternoon  one  of  the  sol- 
diers who  has  been  able  by  some  means  to 
get  considerable  to  drink  was  confined  to 
the  "guard  house,"  which  in  this  instance 
happened  to  be  one  of  the  bath  rooms.  Very 
much  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  he  broke 
one  of  the  panes  in  the  door  and  armed  with 
his  glass  weapon  started  upon  a  rampage. 
He  went  on  deck  where  the  first-class  pas- 
sengers are  located  and  brandishing  his 
weapon,  threatened  to  carve  up  anyone  who 
came  in  contact  with  him.  There  was  a 
panic  among  the  women  and  the  officer  of 
the  guard,  who  threatened  to  shoot  him,  was 
calmly  ordered  to  go  ahead.  The  maniac 
was  overpowered  and  today  languishes 
safely  in  chains  where  he  can  do  no  harm. 

Today  I  participated  in  the  soldiers' 
luncheon,  served  at  twelve.  All  of  us  lined 
up  with  our  mess  kits,  consisting  of  a-n  alu- 
minum tin  cup,  and  a  pan  with  a  top.  In 
the  tin  cup  we  received  piping  hot  coffee, 
sweetened  and  tempered  with  canned  milk. 

75 


76  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

In  our  pan  too  we  got  a  liberal  ration  of 
stewed  prunes,  which  I  consider  a  luxury 
over  here,  and  in  our  pan  proper  we  were 
served  one  boiled  potato,  one  piece  of  boiled 
beef,  and  some  gravy,  also  a  big  hunk  of 
bread.  That  was  our  meal.  There  was  am- 
ple for  all  who  could  eat.  The  sea  was  high 
and  many  of  the  boys  were  sick.  Besides, 
the  environment  is  not  appetizing.  The 
cooks  are  dirty,  and  the  men  who  served  the 
stuff  to  our  long  line  seemed  to  think  that 
their  fingers  were  made  for  dishing  out  food 
and  used  them  accordingly. 

All  had  to  eat  in  the  midst  of  hanging 
quarters  of  raw  beef.  Perhaps  I  was  the 
only  one  of  the  bunch  who  thought  of  it,  but 
it  was  not  appetizing.  But  these  men  are 
going  home,  which  is  more  to  them  than 
anything  else  in  the  world,  and  they  will  put 
up  with  anything. 

There  was  one  fight  between  two  dough- 
boys during  the  meal  which  was  a  bloody 
affair,  one  of  the  fellows  being  very  badly 
battered  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  nose. 
No  attempt  was  made  to  part  them.  They 
fought  on  until  one  got  enough  and  then 
they  shook  hands.  Such  is  life  on  the  ocean 
wave. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  77 

Their  sleeping  quarters  are  not  all  that 
can  be  desired  but  no  one  is  complaining. 
They  are  bunked  in  iron  beds  three  deep  in 
the  hold  of  the  vesesl  which  in  normal  times 
is  used  for  cargo  and  steerage.  The  quar- 
ters are  damp,  dark  and,  in  stormy  weather, 
very  close,  as  the  portholes  must  remain 
closed.  War,  three  thousand  miles  away, 
is  no  joke. 

Many  stories  of  bravery  in  war  will  be 
told,  very,  very  many.  But  I  often  wonder 
if  those  young  lads  who  rode  those  sub- 
marine chasers  will  ever  get  their  due.  They 
crossed  the  ocean  on  boats  no  feet  long, 
about  the  size  of  the  caravels  of  Columbus, 
but  not  nearly  so  bulky.  Life  upon  them 
is  something  fearful  to  contemplate.  Some- 
times one  of  the  men  would  go  forward  and 
have  to  remain  for  three  or  four  days  sepa- 
rated from  his  companions,  because  the 
weather  was  so  stormy  the  hatches  could 
not  be  opened  to  let  him  back.  During  that 
time  he  would  subsist  upon  emergency 
rations  which  had  been  placed  in  that  par- 
ticular part  of  the  boat  for  just  such  a  pur- 
pose. Some  of  those  boats  turned  turtle  and 
sank.  Others  went  down  from  collisions 
and  other  causes. 


78  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

Then  there  are  the  brave  and  fearless  men 
who  manned  the  merchant  marine.  They 
endured  real  hazards  of  war.  They  were  in 
eternal  danger.  War  has  its  heroes  but  the 
men  of  the  merchant  marine  are  the  super- 
heroes  of  strife. 

My  sympathy  is  with  the  "regular"  in  the 
Army  and  Navy,  the  men  who  are  in  the 
service  through  choice.  When  the  armistice 
was  signed  no  one  ever  thought  of  their  go- 
ing home.  It  was  just  a  natural  sequence 
of  thought  that  they  should  continue  to  stick 
to  their  posts.  I  have  talked  with  many  of 
them  and,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  tell,  they 
have  hearts  just  as  big  and  full  of  love  as  the 
men  who  volunteered.  They  have  families 
which  are  dear  to  them  and  girls  of  their 
dreams.  Yet  orders  sent  them  to  far  away 
climes  or  kept  them  where  they  were.  For 
one  year,  two  years,  three  years  yet  before 
home.  What  must  their  thoughts  have 
been  when  they  saw  emergency  army  and 
navy  men  returning  to  welcomes  unprece- 
dented in  modern  times.  Some  day  some 
Kipling  will  tell  the  story  of  the  American 
Army  and  Navy  regulars.  It  will  be  a  story 
of  resplendent  humor  and  infinite  tears. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  79 

Some  of  the  Italian  boys  on  this  boat,  who 
have  been  fighting  in  Italy  and  France,  in 
an  American  uniform  (there  were  about 
200,000  of  them)  many  of  whom  speak  only 
broken  English,  have  recently  been  rather 
loud  in  their  praise  of  their  mother  country, 
to  the  detriment  of  the  United  States. 
When  they  started  to  sing  Italian  patriotic 
songs  the  officers  put  a  stop  to  it.  When  the 
real  bona  fide  Americans  found  it  out  trouble 
was  but  narrowly  averted  and  those  indis- 
creet, as  well  as  unpatriotic  young  fellows, 
may  thank  their  stars  they  didn't  join  Davy 
Jones. 

America  certainly  has  a  problem  on  her 
hands  in  her  polyglot  of  hyphenated  races. 
A  very,  very  large  majority  of  such  young 
men  are  coming  back  every  inch  Americans. 
They  love  their  country  of  adoption  more 
than  ever  before  and  we  Americans  who 
have  the  race  born  and  bred  in  us  must  do 
more  than  we  have  done  to  elevate  the  stand- 
ards of  patriotic  thought.  I,  personally, 
think  we  can  shut  off  immigration  for  three 
or  four  years  to  good  advantage. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

At  noon  today  we  passed  one  of  the 
islands  of  the  Azores,  sailing  by  to  the  south 
of  it.  We  have  taken  the  southern  course, 
so  I  am  reliably  told,  in  order  to  escape  the 
heavy  winds  which  are  now  prevailing  in 
the  north  Atlantic.  The  island,  which  is  the 
only  one  we  shall  see,  is  in  reality  a  moun- 
tain, with  precipitous  cliffs  against  which 
the  water  ceaselessly  surges.  There  is  no 
harbor,  so  if  we  had  paused  we  should  have 
had  to  anchor  a  long  way  out.  It  was  first 
rumored  that  we  were  to  stop  for  provisions 
for  the  soldiers;  then  we  were  told  that  we 
would  stop  for  fresh  water.  But  we  sailed 
past  the  green  valleys  which  one  could  dis- 
cern with  the  aid  of  a  glass,  beyond  terraced 
hillsides,  and  now  we  are  bound  for  New 
York.  In  seven  or  eight  days  we  should  be 
there. 

We  wonder  what  is  happening  in  the  old 
world.  How  is  Peace  adjusting  itself?  Has 
President  Wilson  returned  home?  What 
are  the  Bolshevikis  doing?  How  is  the 

80 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP    81 

wheat  crop  turning  out?  Who  leads  the 
leagues?  How  is  everybody?  If  we  were 
in  the  wilds  of  Africa  we  could  not  possibly 
be  further  removed  from  news  than  we  are 
now. 

There  was  one  rumor  in  circulation  today 
which  has  a  basis.  It  struck  terror  to  the 
hearts  of  some  of  the  mothers  with  children 
on  board.  There  is  one  well  developed  case 
of  diphtheria  and  another  questionable  one. 
If  the  scourge  should  break  out  we  might  be 
quarantined  in  New  York  for  a  week  or  two. 
O  joy! 

There  is  more  strife  between  the  Ameri- 
can officers  on  board  for  the  hands  and 
hearts  of  the  Red  Cross  girls  (until  we  reach 
New  York.  The  lieutenant  was  going  along 
swimmingly  when  all  of  a  sudden  the  lady 
switched  to  the  captain.  Now  in  this  case 
the  officer  of  lower  rank  does  not  necessarily 
need  to  follow  any  particular  regulations, 
and  he  has  sworn  that  he  is  going  to  cut  the 
captain  out,  to  show  him  that  he  can  do  it, 
and  then  drop  the  girl. 

Right  at  this  point  may  I  explain  to  the 
reader  that  this  is  a  chronicle  of  what  is  hap- 
pening on  a  troop-ship,  on  which  about  600 
civilians  and  1,200  soldiers  are  sailing.  The 


82  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

things  which  I  am  recording  are  put  down 
as  they  transpire  from  day  to  day  and  are 
actual  happenings,  not  what  I  imagine.  The 
above  statement  may  seem  silly  on  land, 
where  you  have  access  to  daily  newspapers, 
where  you  can  come  and  go.  But  remember 
that  we  have  been  practically  prisoners  on 
this  boat  since  the  23rd  day  of  June.  It  is 
true  that  at  Gibraltar  we  could  get  off  for  a 
short  time  but  we  always  had  to  report  back 
to  ship  early  for  fear  it  would  sail  without  us. 
This  is  the  sixteenth  day  we  have  slept  on 
this  boat  and  we  are  hardly  one-third  of  the 
distance  across  the  Atlantic.  So  in  the 
course  of  events  what  one  thinks  or  does  be- 
comes common  gossip.  The  above  story  was 
related  to  me  by  a  woman,  who  said  the  lieu- 
tenant told  her,  which  I  know  he  did. 

Remember,  we  are  in  numbers  as  large  as 
many  a  small  country  town,  about  two 
thousand  people.  No  place  to  go,  nothing 
to  do.  I  have  the  only  library  on  board 
worth  mentioning  and  my  books  are  doing 
double  time.  But  people  are  getting  hor- 
ribly peevish  and  constant  rumors  about 
floating  mines  and  the  diphtheria  scare,  to- 
gether with  the  melancholy  of  the  ocean,  the 


ON    A     TROOPS  HIP  83 

awe  of  it  affect  all  of  us,  or  rather  most  all 
of  us. 

So  I  record  what  I  see.  Music  would  be 
enlivening  but  tonight  while  we«were  eat- 
ing dinner  some  one  was  playing  on  the 
piano  and  half  a  dozen  old  maids  got  hyster- 
ical and  they  had  to  quit. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

We  should  have  landed  in  New  York  to- 
day. Instead  we  are  promenading  the  deck, 
15  times  around  for  one  mile,  hardly  yet  in 
mid-ocean.  There  was  boat  drill  today.  One 
long  blast  of  the  whistle  and  all  of  us  sought 
our  life-boats  to  be  used  in  case  of  emer- 
gency. It  has  been  rather  dull  but  trouble 
is  brewing.  There  will  be  something  doing 
tomorrow,  and  of  course  I  am  mixed  up  in 
it.  Perhaps  I'll  tell  you  about  that,  too. 


84 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

I  have  already  told  you  that  there  are  a 
number  of  women  on  board  who  have  been 
marooned  in  Switzerland  or  Italy  since  the 
outbreak  of  the  war  in  1914.  They  are  now 
homeward  bound.  One  lady  with  a  mar- 
rigeable  daughter  cast  out  her  lines  for  an 
Italian  on  board  this  ship  who  is  an  officer 
and  reputed  to  be  a  wealthy  man.  She  and 
the  very  pretty  girl  sit  at  a  table  near  the 
center  of  the  dining  saloon  with  three  Amer- 
ican officers.  Now  these  officers  are  splendid 
young  men  who  very  much  resent  the  speed 
at  which  the  Italian  officer  is  traveling  along 
the  route  of  affections  (top  deck)  with  the 
daughter.  So  they  have  had  anything  but 
kind  words  to  say  concerning  the  "wops'* 
and  Italian  officers  in  particular.  Being  in 
uniform,  the  lady  assumes  that  what  they 
have  said  is  "official"  and  she  has  repeated 
it  to  the  officer  from  Italy,  and  he,  noble 
soul,  overlooks  the  "insults"  but  at  the  same 
time  utilizes  the  incident  to  gather  in  the 
affections  of  the  daughter  (for  eight  days 
yet). 

85 


86  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

Things  came  to  such  a  pass  that  I  was 
called  in  as  arbitrator.  I  chose  the  title  of 
Adjudicator  of  Excesses  and  proceeded  to 
draw  up  a  two-page  armistice  designating 
in  deference  the  American  officers  as  "Par- 
ties of  the  Offensive,"  and  the  American 
mother  as  "Party  of  the  Defensive."  The 
Parties  of  the  Offensive  signed  the  armis- 
tice and  I  then  presented  it  to  the  Party  of 
the  Defensive  yesterday  noon  with  the  stipu- 
lation that  it  must  be  signed  by  her  and  re- 
turned to  me  not  later  than  seven  o'clock 
last  night.  In  case  of  the  madam's  failure 
to  live  up  to  the  articles  of  agreement,  the 
armistice  terms  provided  that  she  was  to  be 
confined  for  a  period  not  exceeding  nine 
months,  under  my  supervision  and  direction. 

She  failed  to  sign  and  of  course  the  war 
is  still  on.  So  last  night  when  it  came  time 
for  dinner  the  three  officers  deliberately  took 
seats  in  other  parts  of  the  dining  room,  leav- 
ing the  mother  and  daughter  gloriously 
alone,  the  cynosure  of  300  gossiping  people. 
Now  the  story  has  started  the  rounds  that 
the  American  officers  deeply  resent  the  in- 
roads which  the  Italian  officer  has  made 
upon  the  affections  of  the  daughter.  Or  per- 
haps there  is  something  more.  Who  knows? 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  87 

One  of  the  stewards  relates  what  he  saw, 
and  his  eyesight  must  be  very  good.  Mother 
and  daughter,  both  blissfully  innocent,  are 
now  the  nucleus  of  the  juiciest  bit  of  gossip 
which  eighteen  days  have  yet  produced  and 
the  end  is  not  yet  in  sight.  It  is  now  my 
duty  as  Adjudicator  to  bring  about  peace 
between  the  two  warring  nationalities,  and 
if  possible  to  save  the  reputations  of  the  la- 
dies. Thus  we  shall  have  to  stop  at  this 
point  in  a  very  delicate  matter  and  await  de- 
velopments. Somehow  I  feel  I  shall  be  equal 
to  the  task.  But  the  mills  of  the  gods  grind 
slowly. 

In  the  meantime  I  am  enjoying  the  solace 
of  rather  a  peculiar  reputation  upon  this 
boat,  aside  from  the  pink  pajamas.  Take  it 
altogether,  I  think  it  is  an  enviable  one,  and 
it  has  come  about  through  tending  strictly 
to  my  own  business.  I  never  visit  the  upper 
deck  after  dark.  If  I  do  I  don't  come  down 
wiping  my  lips.  I  never  promenade  except 
alone.  When  I  walk  I  affect  a  deep  pensive 
mood  with  my  hands  clasped  behind  me,  and 
every  third  time  around  I  stop  and  gaze  in 
deep  meditation  at  the  moon. 

People  say,  "He  seems  to  be  thoughtful," 
and  they  make  other  remarks.  I  do  not  de- 


88  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

ceive  for  it  is  unnecessary.  Thus  when  they 
learn  that  long  years  ago  I  strayed  from  the 
solitary  path  of  life,  into  a  garden  where  five 
blessed  children  drive  away  dull  care,  the 
old  men  look  upon  me  with  envy  and  the 
youthful  among  us  take  courage.  Thus  it 
so  happens  that  I  am  called  upon  to  guide 
the  barks  of  those  who  are  just  starting  on 
the  perilous  voyage  for  it  is  obvious  that 
long  ago  I  passed  over  the  rapids  and  am 
now  sailing  in  smooth  waters. 

So  it  was  with  genuine  pleasure  that  upon 
special  and  confidential  request  I  wrote  the 
following  poem  for  one  who  must  remain 
unknown  to  you,  dear  reader,  because  love 
is  something  concerning  which  no  sane  man 
will  attempt  to  jest.  Therefore,  I  took  for 
my  theme  that  which  is  uppermost  in  the 
minds  of  all  of  us. 

We  want  to  get  home.  Hence  the  sub- 
ject, "My  Home."  This  is  the  poem  which 
may  decide  the  fate  of  two  lives.  I  shall  let 
you  judge  of  its  merits  and  I  may  not  tell 
you  of  the  actual  outcome  of  the  little  play 
on  this  moving  stage,  because  I  probably 
shall  never  know. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  89 

My  Home. 

When  shadows  fall,  and  over  all, 

The  night  has  gathered  deep, 
When  stars  are  heavens  only  light, 

And  half  the  world's  in  sleep, 
I  close  my  eyes,  and  paradise, 

Seems  just  beyond  my  view, 
Dear  Sweetheart,  in  this  solemn  hour, 

My  thoughts  are  all  of  you. 

All  tears  forgot,  no  passion  hot, 

Disturbs  my  midnight  dream, 
Your  face  divinely  seems  to  shine, 

Your  lovely  eyes  to  beam. 
With  holy  light.     O  dearest  mine, 

Whose  love  my  life  has  blest, 
I  sweetly  sink  to  sleep  at  last, 

At  home  upon  your  breast. 

Where  ere  I  roam,  no  other  home, 

Shall  ever  hold  my  heart, 
My  life,  my  all,  I  give  to  Thee, 

Together  or  apart. 
In  this  or  other  worlds  than  this, 

Where  ere  our  souls  shall  be, 
In  love  divine,  my  love  is  thine, 

Throughout  Eternity. 


90  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

Later:  They  have  promised  to  name  their 
first  boy  for  me. 

Today  the  dough-boys  staged  a  prize  fight 
but  it  was  rather  a  tame  affair.  Three  sets 
of  youngsters  in  the  second  class  were  much 
more  amusing  in  their  pugilistic  punching 
and  several  coins  were  tossed  to  them  after 
the  fray. 

The  ocean  looks  smooth  enough  but  there 
is  a  heavy  swell  and-  the  boat  pitches  and 
sways  violently.  The  moon  shines  through 
the  clouds,  mystically,  and  the  beat  of  the 
waves  against  the  boat  sounds  like  breaking 
surf  on  a  rock-bound  coast.  Meanwhile  a 
major  whose  hair  is  tinged  with  gray  has 
been  devoting  too  much  attention  to  an  Ital- 
ian girl.  Neither  speak  the  same  language 
but  there  seems  to  be  something  in  common 
between  them.  I  try  never  to  pass  judgment 
on  my  fellow  countrymen,  or  those  of  any 
other  land,  but  the  old  fool  is  a  revelation 
to  me. 

There  are  four  priests  on  board,  three  or- 
dinary well-fed  crows  and  one  great  big 
priest.  They  are  jolly  good  fellows  and  have 
done  nothing  which  I  have  seen  that  reflects 
upon  the  cloth. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  91 

We  have  our  little  princess,  one  of  those 
beautiful  children  which  you  are  perfectly 
willing  to  agree  is  just  as  charming  as  your 
own.  The  other  day  at  luncheon  I  suppose 
I  was  staring  at  her  in  rather  a  rude  way 
for  her  little  face  was  a  vision  of  loveliness 
and  sweet  innocence.  While  I  sat  there,  en- 
raptured, that  blessed  little  thing  came  down 
the  corridor  between  the  tables  and  holding 
out  her  delicate  wan  hand  extended  it  to  me 
for  a  kiss.  No  knight  has  ever  been  more 
signally  honored  by  his  lady  love,  and  to  this 
hour  I  do  not  know  why  she  ever  thus  pre- 
sented herself  to  me  in  such  queenly  fashion. 

How  wonderful  is  the  innocence  of  child- 
hood. Truly  it  has  been  said  that  "A  little 
child  shall  lead  them."  My  dear  little  Prin- 
cess, when  the  scenes  of  today  are  but  mem- 
ories of  time  which  was  spent  upon  a  long 
journey  and  the  comedies  and  tragedies  of 
slow  moving  hours  have  mingled  with  the 
dust  of  yesterday,  I  shall  recall,  with  rever- 
ence, the  gracious  goodness  with  which  you 
smiled  and  came  to  me  in  simple  trusting 
faith  for  the  homage  which  every  knight 
pays  to  his  lady  love. 

The  commandant  of  the  boat  has  posted  a 
sign  which  indicates  that  one  long  blast  of 


92     TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

the  whistle  means  boat  drill  and  two  long 
blasts  of  the  whistle  means  "man  over- 
board." Nothing  about  the  women  men- 
tioned. We  could  lose  a  dozen  or  two  of  the 
old  hens  on  this  ship  without  any  distress. 
Take  the  one  for  instance  with  the  bird  cage. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

People  on  board  a  ship  live  as  if  they  were 
under  a  microscope.  Their  goodness  and 
their  badness  is  magnified.  Their  faults  are 
exaggerated  and  their  virtues  much  en- 
larged. Thus  I  envy  that  philosophy  of  a 
noble  woman,  who  is  much  devoted  to  her 
husband,  when  she  said,  after  some  gossiper 
had  told  her  a  shameless  tale,  "I  always  try 
to  see  the  good,  not  the  bad.  Please  do  not 
tell  me  such  things.  There  is  some  good  in 
all  of  us  and  I  am  sure  everyone  on  this  boat 
has  some  good  qualities." 

Then  she  left  for  a  promenade  with  her 
husband  and  every  time  they  rounded  the 
dark  corner  of  the  deck  he  kissed  her,  and 
their  honeymoon  has  been  going  on  for  ten 
years. 

There  is  a  lady  in  the  second  class  who 
calls  herself  a  duchess.  She  opened  a  cabin 
of  ill-fame  and  for  a  while  long  queues 
waited  at  the  threshold.  But  there  was  a 
sudden  and  tragic  ending  which  is  set  down 

93 


94  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

because  it  is  one  of  the  lurid  and  pathetic 
incidents  of  this  ocean  trip. 

The  race  between  the  captain  and  the  lieu- 
tenant has  suddenly  veered  in  favor  of  the 
latter.  It  is  early  now  to  prognosticate  with 
certainty  what  the  ultimate  issue  will  be. 

There  are  two  elderly  men  on  board  whose 
daily  life  is  beautiful.  One  of  them,  the 
elder,  is  suffering  from  locomotor  ataxia.  He 
must  be  led,  fed,  and  cared  for  almost  as  a 
child.  So  the  younger,  whose  hair  is  turning 
gray,  devotes  every  hour  of  the  day  and 
night  to  kindly  ministrations.  I  am  sure 
that  the  patience  which  he  exhibits  and  the 
devotion  which  he  shows  to  the  afflicted  one 
has  touched  the  hearts  of  all  of  us.  The 
greatest  of  these  is  LOVE. 

This  is  one  of  those  stifling  hot  days  in 
mid-ocean  when  the  salt  of  the  sea  seems  to 
lodge  in  every  pore  and  your  whole  frame 
oozes  brine. 

The  soldiers  are  lolling  on  the  deck.  Down 
in  the  hold  a  few  of  them  are  playing  an  in- 
teresting game  known  as  stud  poker.  I  do 
not  understand  it  but  the  money  seems  to 
change  hands  with  lightning  rapidity.  Now 
and  then  there  is  a  bugle  call  to  which  the 
soldiers  respond.  They  run  around  the  deck 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  95 

a  few  times,  generating  much  sweat,  but  for 
the  most  part  these  are  dull,  dull  days.  En- 
ergy is  sapped,  and  life  feels  like  molasses 
oozing  out  of  a  barrel  bung  hole  in  June. 

The  officers  are  filling  out  records  and 
making  up  pay  rolls,  which  reminds  me  that 
Uncle  Sam  sent  many  a  remittance  to  his 
soldiers  in  Italy  in  transparent  envelopes, 
while  the  rules  of  the  Italian  censorship  pro- 
vided that  communications  in  transparent 
envelopes  should  be  thrown  in  the  waste 
basket.  The  complication  involved  in  war- 
ring three  thousand  miles  away  are  multi- 
tudinous. 

A  few  soldiers  were  court-martialed  to- 
day. The  officers  sat  as  a  jury  of  six,  and 
the  charges  were  read.  The  charges  were 
mostly  for  being  drunk  and  disobedient  or 
disrespectful  to  officers.  Some  of  the  poor 
devils  got  six  months  or  a  year  in  Leaven- 
worth,  when  we  are  now  almost  home.  Just 
six  days  more.  I  should  say  that  liquor  is 
nine-tenths  responsible.  These  are  the  trag- 
edies which  make  a  prohibitionist  out  of  a 
man. 

The  latest  rumor  is  that  we  have  food 
enough  on  board  to  last  just  four  days  and 


96  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

no  more.     Meanwhile  we  wonder  what  is 
being  done  with  the  Kaiser. 

There  was  another  pugilistic  seance  this 
afternoon.  Two  heavy-weights  fought  until 
one  quit  after  two  rounds;  then  two  fancy 
steppers  took  the  ring.  They  were  mild, 
after  which  two  men  of  color  pranced  about 
a  bit,  very  politely  tapping  each  other  now 
and  then,  while  the  ocean  is  like  a  pond  as 
we  sail. 

We  have  the  "Daily  Wail"  with  us.  It 
is  an  ingenious  little  travesty  which  is  done 
by  a  well  known  correspondent  of  a  Chicago 
paper,  under  the  direction  of  a  brown-eyed 
pretty  English  girl  who  is  his  charming  and 
devoted  wife.  The  printing  establishment 
consists  of  a  well  known  make  of  transport- 
able typewriter,  and  the  "Daily  Wail"  fre- 
quently comprises  three  pages  of  "news." 

And  I  must  not  forget  to  mention  after- 
noon tea  at  three.  Luncheon  is  at  twelve. 
Thus  we  eat  and  drink  and  live  and  laugh 
on  board  the  Pesaro  bound  for  New  York 
on  a  troop-ship.  We  are  averaging  a  little 
over  three  hundred  miles  per  day.  By  the 
grace  of  courage  and  coal  we  will  soon  ar- 
rive. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  97 

Late  this  afternoon  the  captain  had  the 
inside  track  again.  He  plays  the  piano  well 
and  he  serenaded  his  lady  who  assisted  him 
with  a  mandolin. 

The  battle  between  the  American  officers 
and  the  lady  and  daughter,  with  the  Italian 
officer  in  reserve,  still  rages  silently.  Seated 
at  the  same  table  breaking  identical  bread, 
choking  upon  similar  fish  bones,  and  swal- 
lowing twin  prune  seeds,  both  have  en- 
trenched. Verily,  it  is  not  yet  time  for  me 
to  act. 

Over  against  the  horizon,  across  the 
smooth  deep  sea,  a  sailing  vessel  is  bound 
toward  the  rising  sun.  Now  and  then  a  piece 
of  dull  brown  seaweed  floats  by.  The  ocean 
is  as  blue  as  the  language  of  a  coxswain  who 
has  skinned  his  shins  upon  an  achor  chain. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

This  is  Sunday,  the  third  one  aboard  the 
Pesaro.  High  mass  was  celebrated  this 
morning  at  8  o'clock  in  the  smoking  room. 
At  10  o'clock  church  services  were  held  in 
the  music  room.  At  12  o'clock  we  dined. 
They  are  shortening  up  on  our  rations. 
There  must  be  some  truth  in  the  report  that 
food  is  getting  low.  This  evening  I  lectured 
to  a  chosen  few,  selecting  my  own  audience, 
and  then  locking  the  door  of  the  dining 
saloon.  They  had  to  sit  through  it.  Would 
you?  For  this  is  what  I  said,  after  asking 
my  audience  to  disregard  the  fact  that  I  was 
not  speaking  to  them.  For  the  audience  of 
my  mind  and  my  heart  was  one  somewhere 
in  the  States.  Together  we  laughed  and  we 
wept  and  felt  better. 

Over  Seas  in  a  Sack  Suit. 

"When  the  mailed  fist  of  war  had  been 
shackled  by  the  signing  of  the  armistice; 
when  the  last  gun  in  Flanders  field  had  thun- 
dered its  final  diapason;  when  legions  of 

98 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP     99 

heroic  soldiers  saw  the  final  chapter  of  car- 
nage closed  on  the  Western  front,  then  the 
human  race  was  to  witness  the  homeward 
marching  of  more  potential  heroes  than  his- 
torians had  numbered,  from  the  prehistoric 
dawn,  to  that  fateful  November  eleventh 
hour. 

"Some  of  them  you  have  seen  survivors  of 
terrific  battles  in  the  air,  on  land  and  sea; 
de-limbed,  maimed  and  blind,  every  one 
worthy  of  noblest  tribute  and  undying  fame. 

"And  across  the  vision  of  our  dreams  of 
Victory,  there  flashes  for  a  moment,  the 
spectre  of  hosts  of  heroes,  who  fell  in  the 
midnight  of  battle,  the  end  of  a  Great  Ad- 
venture, whose  solemn  requiem  shall  stir  a 
fever  in  the  blood,  so  long  as  man  loves  lib- 
erty and  right! 

"But  there  are  millions  of  us  who  never 
reached  the  firing  line;  who  never  expected 
to  see  the  battle  front;  we  were  doomed  to 
the  sack  suit  of  civilian  life;  thus  must  I 
speak  to  you,  neither  as  a  soldier,  sailor  nor 
marine,  just  a  private  in  the  ranks  of  a  thing 
called  commerce,  a  voyager  on  several  seas, 
a  writer  devoid  of  decorations,  a  speaker 
without  the  prestige  of  fame. 


100  TWENTY-FOUR    DAYS 

"Hence,  without  further  digression,  I  shall 
throw  a  few  pictures  upon  the  screen  of  your 
imaginations;  I  shall  take  you  into  the  high- 
ways and  by-ways  of  foreign  commerce  and 
trade,  of  international  politics  and  diplom- 
acy, of  readjustment  and  reconstruction.  We 
shall  see  devastation  and  chaos  upon  this 
journey,  where  thousands  died  and  millions 
fought. 

"Let  us  engage  our  trans-Atlantic  passage 
upon  a  comfortable  ocean  steamer,  utilized 
upon  its  return  trip,  largely  for  the  trans- 
portation of  American  troops.  It  is  a  boat 
broad  of  beam  which  slightly  rolls  and  rocks 
to  the  rhythmic  swell  of  the  cradle  of  the 
deep.  There  shall  be  no  stories  of  physical 
qualms,  for  so  far  as  I  know  there  are  none 
which  it  would  be  edifying  to  repeat. 

"As  for  myself  (if  you  will  pardon)  I  have 
sailed  on  seven  seas  when  mighty  tempests 
have  tossed  the  ship  as  a  toy  on  their  bo- 
soms, and  in  dead  calms  when  one  could 
scarcely  feel  the  steamer's  quiver,  and 
neither  in  tempest  nor  calm  have  I  ever  ex- 
perienced one  gastronomic  flivver. 

"Somehow  when  the  pall  of  night  falls  up- 
on the  silent  ocean,  when  the  stars  are  but 
feeble  twinkling  lights  which  link  us  to  the 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  101 

sunshine  of  day-dreams  and  laughter  and 
love,  then  surely  the  thoughtful  must  pon- 
der in  heathen  awe  over  the  majesty  of 
nature.  But  when  the  waves  roll  high,  and 
break  in  cloud  crests  of  whitened  foam  over 
the  decks  of  the  vessel,  when  storms  rage 
and  fitful  gusts  of  rain  and  sleet,  blind  the 
bold  sailors,  when  the  prow  leaps  high  and 
the  stern  plunges  low,  then  the  elemental  in 
man  asserts  itself,  and  the  ocean  is  dared  to 
do  its  worst! 

"So  it  seems  to  me  that  when  the  world 
was  shaken  by  the  storms  of  war,  and  men 
and  Nations  were  instinctively  drawn  to- 
gether for  mutual  preservation,  that  the  he- 
roic most  vigorously  asserted  itself. 

"It  was  only  when  the  storm  was  over, 
when  the  tension  relaxed  that  the  true  test 
of  the  principles  of  democracy  confronted 
human  kind. 

"It  is  of  the  calm  of  which  I  would  speak, 
the  ominous  stillness  which  followed  the 
signing  of  the  armistice ! 

"Let  us  disembark  in  Liverpool,  drenched 
in  rain,  shivering  with  cold,  and  embalmed 
in  a  cheesy  fog. 

"The  principal  port  of  England,  during 
war-time  (and  by  war-time  I  mean  that  pe- 


102  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

riod  following  the  armistice)  is  a  military 
center  where  alien  civilians  are  quizzed, 
labeled,  stamped,  measured,  marked,  photo- 
graphed, thumb-printed  to  the  utmost  satis- 
faction of  Scotland  Yards,  no  matter  how 
reticent  one  may  be,  or  how  legitimate  the 
purpose  of  the  journey.  There  are  no  fixed 
fees  for  the  police  procedure,  but  gratuities 
are  accepted  with  thanks,  and  they  ease  the 
way  which  would  otherwise  be  spent  in 
queues  of  hysterical  women,  crying  children, 
wounded  soldiers,  perspiring  Chinamen,  and 
a  polyglot  of  all  the  races  that  fate  and  for- 
tune have  cast  into  the  British  Isles.  There 
is  no  particular  mystery  about  civilians  trav- 
eling in  war-time,  providing  your  papers  are 
authentic,  and  your  credit  is  as  good  as  gold. 
But  there  is  difficulty  in  explaining  to  the 
principals  you  represent,  that  you  have  not 
bought  the  Bank  of  England,  attempted  the 
reconstruction  of  Belgium  or  purchased  a 
harem  in  the  land  of  Turkestan. 

"Not  far  from  Liverpool  one  may  visit 
where  Roman  legions  camped  two  thousand 
years  ago,  leaving  for  posterity,  antique  rel- 
ics of  their  abode.  In  fact,  you  do  not  travel 
in  the  British  Isles  or  Europe  very  long,  be- 
fore you  learn  that  the  Revolutionary  war  is 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  103 

recent  enough  to  warrant  special  editions  of 
our  daily  newspapers,  recounting  the  suc- 
cessful ride  of  Paul  Revere,  or  the  surrender 
of  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown. 

"Buildings  which  do  not  date  back  to  the 
fifteenth  century,  tombstones  epitaphing  the 
lives  of  those  within  three  hundred  years, 
and  businesses  established  after  1700  hardly 
attract  your  attention,  when  you  can  frater- 
nize with  knights  and  crusaders  now  resting 
upon  their  laurels  in  the  ancient  tombs  and 
churches. 

"Liverpool  immediately  reminded  me  of 
something  I  had  read  somewhere  about  a 
Revolutionary  soldier,  who  upon  being  asked 
why  he  had  fought  for  independence,  re- 
plied, "I  was  cut  out  of  my  sweetheart  by  a 
red  coat  gallant ;  a  marine  officer  with  Lord 
Dunmore." 

"The  war  which  was  fought  upon  the 
Western  front  at  times  could  hardly  have 
been  more  engaging  than  the  one  which  the 
Yanks,  who  were  encamped  at  Liverpool, 
were  waging  for  the  hands  and  hearts  of 
Briton's  maids,  based  upon  the  Patrick 
Henry  principle  of  "Give  me  liberty  or  give 
me  death"  with  those  pretty  English  girls. 


104  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

"We  like  to  believe,  indeed  we  devoutedly 
hope,  that  those  nations  which  brigaded 
their  men  on  the  western  battle  front,  until 
they  had  driven  the  enemy  beyond  the  Rhine, 
have  been  welded  into  close  political  ties 
which  time  shall  never  sever. 

"But  the  soldiers  of  the  French,  the  British 
and  the  American  armies,  from  buck  private 
to  commissioned  officer,  were  not  on  friendly 
terms,  even  before  their  work  was  done.  Not 
only  was  there  much  secret  and  expressed 
antipathy  but  there  were  frequent  and  deadly 
feuds.  The  feeling  was  not  sporadic  but 
rather  universal  in  its  scope. 

"The  condition,  accelerated  by  the  armis- 
tice, was  one  of  the  most  regrettable  reper- 
cussions of  the  war. 

"The  remedy  which  will  heal  the  wounds 
of  the  nations,  and  which  will  restore  and 
firmly  establish  enduring  friendship  lies  deep 
in  the  hearts  of  the  plain  people  of  our  coun- 
try and  theirs. 

"It  is  unthinkable  that  England  or  France 
should  ever  engage  in  war  with  America, 
but  the  wars  of  the  future  will  be  demanded 
by  public  opinion;  people  will  precipitate 
them,  not  Monarchs,  and  no  man  living  or 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  105 

dead  has  ever  correctly  forecast  what  public 
opinion  will  do. 

"We  MUST  know  each  other  better;  we 
must  trust  each  other  more,  and  then  with 
eternal  vigilance,  which  is  the  price  of  Peace, 
we  must  do  our  bit  to  elevate  the  standards 
of  common  thought. 

"I  speak  to  you  with  hope,  tempered  by  the 
memory  of  the  awful  waste  which  I  have 
witnessed,  that  civilization  has  shed  its  last 
drop  of  blood  in  fitful  strife.  I  say  I  speak 
to  you  with  hope,  but  not  with  conviction. 

"One  cannot  travel  as  I  have  traveled,  liv- 
ing for  weeks  and  months  among  foreign 
peoples,  differing  in  language,  religion,  man- 
ners, customs,  philosophy  and  economic  sys- 
tems without  sensing  the  innate  antagonism 
of  races,  and  inevitably  concluding  that  our 
own  security  for  the  future  lies  in  our  ability 
to  defend  our  own  borders  and  repose  in  our 
own  strength. 

"But  to  this  I  would  hastily  add,  that  now 
we  must  accept  the  burdens  which  the  re- 
sponsibilities of  war  have  thrust  upon  us,  in 
helping  to  maintain  the  Peace  of  the  world, 
or  fifty  thousand  American  soldiers,  sleeping 
on  Flanders'  field  have  fought  and  died  in 
vain. 


106  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

"I  would  change  now  rather  abruptly,  the 
flickering  film  of  my  journey,  and  visit  Scot- 
land. Not  the  country  that  we  know  in  song 
and  story,  but  the  modern  Scotland  of  today. 

"The  thrift  and  industry  of  her  native  deni- 
zens have  made  the  lowlands  what  I  believe 
to  be  the  most  wonderfully  beautiful  agri- 
cultural country  in  the  world.  Her  rock- 
ribbed  hills  are  adorned  with  heather;  miles 
upon  miles  of  stone  fences  following  the  sin- 
uous windings  of  excellent  roads  are  resplen- 
dent with  green  moss  and  ivy;  her  valleys 
are  verdant  twelve  months  in  the  year.  Her 
Lochs  sparkle  as  diadems  and  her  rivers  are 
like  silver  ribbons  reaching  out  to  the  sea. 

"I  see  a  Scottish  soldier  just  home  from 
France,  a  picture  vivified  by  a  bonnie  wee 
lassie  who  loved  him  so  well.  In  bedraggled 
khaki  and  kilts,  with  a  helmet  flung  over  his 
shoulder,  and  a  knapsack  swung  at  his  side, 
he  comes  back  to  his  cottage  home  on  the 
hill-top. 

"The  exquisite  delight  of  standing  once 
more  upon  his  own  door-step,  the  quiet  pen- 
sive home,  contrasting  so  strangely  now 
with  the  trenches  in  which  he  had  lived  so 
long,  the  silence  of  the  hills,  the  call  of  the 


ON    A    TROOPSHIP  107 

birds  across  the  moor,  the  loneliness  of  the 
place,  enshroud  him. 

''He  stepped  to  the  door  quietly,  stopped 
upon  the  threshold  and  knocked;  there  was 
a  clatter  of  tea  things,  then  a  pause.  A  little 
maid  with  auburn  hair  screamed  in  ecstasy, 
"It's  me  daddy." 

And  then  the  door  was  closed  upon  a  scene 
which  in  tenderness  is  only  surpassed  by  the 
memory  of  the  daddy  who  never  came  home. 

"London  is  very  much  the  mother  of  many 
of  us.  For  Americans  of  English  stock,  cer- 
tainly it  is  the  most  wonderful  city  in  the 
world.  All  that  we  are  and  perhaps  all  that 
we  ever  shall  be  are  recorded  in  London- 
town.  Our  literature,  language,  laws,  cus- 
toms, architecture  and  religion  run  back- 
ward to  her  crooked  streets  and  gabled 
houses.  Today  one  may  dine  in  London, 
where  generations  of  genius  have  been  wont 
to  sit  and  sip.  The  old  and  the  new  are 
merged  in  London  as  the  waters  from  a 
thousand  hillsides  mingle  in  the  busy 
Thames. 

"But  of  old  London  I  would  not  tell.  It  is 
the  city  as  I  found  it,  upon  the  ending  of  the 
war  that  I  want  you  to  see.  Three  months 
after  the  signing  of  the  armistice,  London 


108  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

was  submerged  in  grief.     Her  gaiety  was 
superficial,  her  happiness  was  but  a  veneer. 

"The  toll  of  war  had  been  too  terrible,  the 
sorrow  of  war  had  cut  too  deep,  the  burdens 
of  war  had  been  too  heavy,  the  reactions 
from  war  had  been  too  distant  for  immediate 
reconstruction  to  begin. 

"Mistake  not.  There  was  reconstruction 
as  well  as  readjustment  in  the  economic  or- 
der of  things  to  be  done. 

"The  London  business  man  spoke  with  a 
suppressed  and  wavering  confidence  of  the 
future;  with  trepidation  of  the  immediate 
present,  and  with  infinite  grief,  of  the  sorrow 
which  had  darkened  millions  of  homes. 

"If  it  had  been  my  first  contact  with  Eng- 
lish business  men  I  surely  should  have  been 
misled,  for  tenacity  of  purpose  and  sweep 
of  commercial  vision  were  obscured  by  the 
pessimism  of  the  hour.  But  my  intuitive 
judgment  was  better  than  my  immediate 
perspective,  for  I  felt  then  and  I  wrote  that 
my  confidence  in  the  ability  of  the  English- 
man to  find  himself  and  come  back  was  not 
shaken.  Six  months  of  time  have  vindicated 
that  view.  Today  you  will  find  them  wher- 
ever the  sun  shines,  following  old  lanes  of 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  109 

travel,  or  blazing  new  tracks  of  commerce 
and  trade. 

"America  might  have  led  the  world  in  in- 
ternational finance  and  business,  for  the  for- 
tunes of  war  thrust  opportunity  into  our 
path.  We  have  done  well,  but  England,  in 
spite  of  her  war  burdens,  has  done  infinitely 
better. 

"London  has  witnessed  the  transfer  of 
huge  reserves  of  gold  to  our  coffers,  but  in 
my  humble  opinion  she  has  not  sacrificed  for 
any  length  of  time  her  international  finan- 
cial leadership.  Today  she  borrows  im- 
mense sums  of  money  from  us  but  she  is 
loaning  to  customers  who  might  have  been 
ours.  We  are  an  infant  in  the  cradle  of  inter- 
national finance,  not  on  account  of  deficient 
ability,  but  because  our  economics  are  polit- 
ically robed  in  swaddling  cloths. 

"England  builds  statues  to  her  business 
men.  We  dedicate  them  to  those  who  cir- 
cumscribe our  personal  liberty  in  the  name 
of  reform.  If  you  have  shed  tears  for  poor 
old  England,  prepare  to  dry  them  now. 
When  you  round  up  the  figures  of  interna- 
tional finance  in  a  decade,  I  will  venture  the 
prediction  you  will  find  that  England  has 


110  TWENTY -FOUR     DAYS 

corraled  the  numerals,  and  we  like  innocent 
snipe  hunters,  will  be  holding  the  sack. 

"But  we  must  hasten  over  to  France, 
crossing  the  channel  quickly  from  South- 
ampton to  La  Havre,  trusting  as  we  sail,  that 
whatsoever  the  future  may  hold  for  us,  we 
will  call  it  good  if  out  of  the  mighty  issues  of 
war  England  and  America  emerge  with  no 
barrier  between  them  but  the  sea. 

"To  reach  France  was  the  acme  of  my  am- 
bition. There  was  something  romantic  it 
seemed  to  me  about  setting  foot  on  French 
soil.  Somewhere  along  the  lines  with  the 
Army  of  Occupation,  I  knew  I  should  find 
my  brothers.  To  meet  them  and  to  greet 
them  after  the  stress  of  many  battles,  was 
a  joy  which  knew  no  bounds.  .But  the  mili- 
tary officials  who  quizzed  me  at  the  port, 
and  the  initial  reception  which  I  received, 
jarred  the  romance  out  of  my  system  and 
brought  me  precipitately  to  earth. 

"The  experience  was  to  be  duplicated 
many  times  before  my  return,  for  the  civilian 
traveling  abroad  in  war-time  is  an  object  of 
suspicion,  guilty,  until  he  proves  himself 
innocent,  a  trespasser  upon  forbidden  soil. 
At  first  I  felt  in  a  sack  suit  much  like  an 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  111 

escaped  convict,  parading  the  streets  in  my 
stripes. 

"I  paid  full  fare  on  the  railroads,  plus  many 
a  liberal  fee  for  the  privilege  of  riding;  in 
restaurants  reserved  for  soldiers  I  was  al- 
ways turned  out;  in  the  shops  I  received  no 
ten  per  cent  discount,  and  in  many  of  the 
public  buildings  only  men  in  uniform  were 
allowed.  They  did  not  recognize  me  in  any 
of  the  commissary  departments;  they  did  not 
take  me  on  "Triangle"  and  sight-seeing 
tours,  and  from  the  mademoiselles  and  sen- 
oritas  I  never  even  received  so  much  as  a 
pleasant  look. 

"In  the  midst  of  my  tribulations  I  met  a 
dough-boy,  who  thought  he  recognized  me 
by  the  style  of  the  spectacles  which  I  wore. 
"Say,  ain't  you  from  God's  country?"  and 
when  I  answered  "Yes,"  he  impulsively  in- 
vited me  to  "put  her  there." 

"You're  the  first  Yank  I've  seen  in  civvies 
since  I  landed  in  this  damned  mudhole, 
and  believe  me,  pal,  you  sure  look  good. 
What  are  you  doing  over  here?" 

"When  I  had  assured  him  that  I  was  just 
an  humble  citizen  of  his  own  country  travel- 
ing abroad  to  ascertain  a  few  facts  about  the 
supplies  of  chow,  he  greeted  me  as  a  long 


112  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

lost  bunkie,  and  he  never  once  accused  me 
of  winning  the  war. 

"At  another  time  I  stood  watching  thou- 
sands of  men  and  women  parading  the 
streets  of  Paris  on  the  first  of  May.  Red 
flowers  and  red  insignias  were  most  con- 
spicuous, while  now  and  then  a  red  flag  was 
hoisted  in  the  rain.  But  Clemenceau  had 
caused  regiments  of  infantry  and  cavalry  to 
be  stationed  at  strategic  places  and  the 
hordes  were  not  allowed  to  halt. 

"An  American  army  colonel  from  Ala- 
bama had  been  watching  the  strange  proces- 
sion, wondering  as  I  was,  what  it  was  all 
about.  Side  by  side,  we  fell  into  conversa- 
tion, just  as  the  mob  tried  to  break  through  a 
cordon  of  soldiers,  who  swept  them  back.  He 
tactfully  insisted  upon  talking  to  me  at  some 
length  for  he  said  that  I  was  the  first  private 
citizen  of  his  own  country  whom  he  had  seen 
dressed  in  civilian  garb  since  he  landed  in 
France. 

"After  many  similar  experiences,  which 
were  often  repeated,  my  rank  and  station 
ceased  to  bother  me.  I  was  often  envied  by 
the  boys  in  khaki,  and  as  for  the  military 
police,  I  could  tell  them  without  fear  of  rec- 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  113 

ompense,  just  where  the  soldiers  thought 
they  ought  to  go. 

"Depression  and  pessimism  which  was  so 
apparent  in  England,  I  had  expected  to  find 
duplicated  and  augmented  in  France.  Imag- 
ine my  surprise  and  wonderment  when  ex- 
actly the  reverse  seemed  to  be  true.  Paris 
in  conformity  with  its  reputation  was  bril- 
liantly gay. 

"The  theatres  were  crowded,  the  cafes 
were  bulging  with  people,  a  universal  hol- 
iday seemed  to  be  on.  The  high  cost  of 
living  apparently  had  no  terrors  for  the 
Parisians  for  most  of  the  business  men  had 
profited  financially  from  the  war.  They  had 
not  only  profited,  but  in  some  few  instances 
they  had  profiteered. 

"At  no  time  during  the  war  was  it  impos- 
sible to  secure  every  known  luxury  in  ed- 
ibles in  Paris,  providing  one  was  prepared 
to  pay  the  price.  This  was  never  true  in 
England,  where  the  rich  and  the  poor  suf- 
fered privations  alike. 

"The  price  which  was  fixed  for  bread,  dur- 
ing the  early  stages  of  the  war  stimulated 
instead  of  reduced  consumption.  But  I  do 
not  feel  that  we  should  regret  having  made 
any  sacrifices  in  order  that  France  might 


114  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

have  her  daily  bread,  for  a  breadless  France 
would  have  engendered  unrest  and  rioting 
which  might  have  defeated  for  a  time,  the 
ultimate  issue  of  the  war. 

"But  there  was  something  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  Paris  that  could  not  be  seen,  an  in- 
tangible undefmable  spirit,  which  was  all  but 
submerged  by  the  frivolous  gaiety  of  the 
city  itself.  I  am  not  just  sure  of  the  name, 
but  it  was  certainly  that  mighty  force  which 
took  hold  of  the  hearts  of  the  genuine 
French  society,  representing  the  true  soul 
of  France,  and  in  the  face  of  death  and  dis- 
aster such  as  no  nation  has  ever  braved,  re- 
mained stoically  calm,  until  the  genius  of 
her  great  Marshal  wrested  Victory  from  de- 
feat, and  set  the  tri-color  in  the  sun  along 
the  Rhine.  The  mothers  of  France  cannot 
forget  the  past !  The  womanhood  of  France, 
the  war's  greatest  miracle! 

"It  was  my  privilege  to  travel  extensively 
through  the  devastated  regions.  Here  is 
where  language  fails. 

"Who  can  hope  to  portray  the  impressions 
received  from  passing  through  a  country 
where  every  foot  had  felt  the  impress  of 
some  engine  of  war? 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  115 

"Acres  and  acres,  for  miles  and  miles  once 
promising  with  harvests,  teeming  with 
homes,  and  enlivened  by  a  happy  peasant 
people  had  been  churned  by  exploding 
shells,  littered  with  every  accoutrement  of 
war,  where  but  to  touch  a  camouflaged  hel- 
met, an  innocent  looking  wire,  or  an  unex- 
ploded  shell  was  to  flirt  with  death. 

"One  might  wander  among  such  scenes 
for  hours,  until  the  emotions  had  been  stifled 
by  the  holocaust,  until  the  senses  had  been 
dulled  by  the  sight  of  ruined  homes,  dese- 
crated churches,  demolished  office  buildings, 
not  even  the  faintest  vestige  of  a  street  re- 
maining to  identify  what  was  once  a  thriv- 
ing town. 

"The  mind  cannot  grasp,  the  eye  cannot 
see,  the  tongue  cannot  tell  of  the  pitiless 
and  tragic  ruin  in  France  and  Belgium,  but 
one  may  gather  here  and  there  a  story  which 
lights  the  darkness  and  death  of  war,  a  tale 
which  embellishes  a  description  or  an  anec- 
dote which  relieves  the  tension  of  twitching 
nerves. 

"I  do  not  know  what  value  the  unbiased 
historian  of  the  war  will  ascribe  to  the  ac- 
tivities of  the  American  army  in  France. 
Nor  am  I  interested.  I  shall  write  my  own 


116  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

history,  and  I  am  ready  to  write  it  now,  not 
tomorrow,  but  today  as  I  speak. 

"I  can  see  a  powerful  nation  standing  sol- 
idly behind  its  President.  "Force,  force  to 
the  utmost"  was  the  slogan  in  every  Ameri- 
can heart  which  sent  a  steady  stream  of  men 
across  the  sea.  I  can  see  those  men  reaching 
England  and  France  by  the  thousand,  often- 
times under  conditions  which  reflected  any- 
thing but  credit  upon  those  who  transported 
them.  Men  who  for  the  most  part  embraced 
the  opportunity  to  go  over  there,  because  it 
was  enough  that  their  country  had  called 
them  to  go.  I  can  see  them  as  they  marched 
in  the  dead  of  night,  over  the  cobblestones 
of  darkened  cities  on  the  Isles  and  the  Con- 
tinent. I  can  see  the  expressions  upon  their 
faces,  as  they  were  told,  thousands  of  them 
that  the  war  was  all  but  lost,  and  that  their 
coming  had  only  prolonged  the  conflict. 

You  know  the  truth! 

"In  all  the  annals  of  modern  warfare  what 
could  be  nobler  than  the  achievements  of 
the  dough-boys,  and  the  8,000  marines,  who 
met  the  picked  guards  of  the  Prussian  army, 
the  very  flower  of  Kaiserdom,  the  best  that 
militarism  had  to  offer,  hurling  them  back 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  117 

with  indomitable  courage,  which  never  knew 
defeat. 

"Strolling  along  the  Champs  de  Elysee  one 
day  I  noticed  an  American  soldier  sitting 
upon  one  of  the  iron  benches.  I  stopped  to 
chat  with  him,  for  I  was  interested  in  the 
company  which  he  was  entertaining.  I 
asked  him  how  long  a  leave  he  had  in  Paris 
and  he  told  me  48  hours.  Then  I  suggested 
that  I  should  think  he  would  be  about  see- 
ing the  "sights." 

Listen  to  him! 

"No,  sir,  this  here  little  kid  is  the  first  one 
I've  had  a  chance  to  hug  since  I  left  Des 
Moines  and  I'm  damned  if  I  can  let  him  go." 
Whereupon  he  grabbed  the  ragged  urchin 
and  fondled  it  as  tenderly  as  any  mother 
could. 

"That's  the  spirit  of  the  American  dough- 
boy which  the  world  cannot  understand. 
He's  a  devil  in  the  front  line  trenches,  when 
he  knows  his  country  expects  him  to  fight, 
but  when  the  fighting  is  over  and  the  job  is 
done,  he's  ready  to  quit  and  go  home. 

"It  is  not  for  me  to  say  with  what  valor  the 
colored  soldiers  accepted  the  issues  of  battle. 
One  hears  both  good  and  ill  reports.  But 
what  could  be  more  characteristically  hu- 


118  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

morous  than  the  story  of  a  southern  soldier 
who  was  some  sort  of  an  aide  where  our  big 
naval  guns  were  set  up  and  used  on  the 
western  front. 

"It  seems  that  those  powerful  cannon  were 
made  ready  for  a  salvo.  The  guns  were 
fixed.  The  range  was  determined.  The 
shells  were  placed.  An  American  admiral 
fired  the  first  shot.  The  report  was  so  ter- 
rific, the  concussion  was  so  great  that  the 
darky  who  lingered  too  close  to  the  cannon 
was  toppled  over.  Finally  he  got  up,  some- 
what stunned,  rolled  his  white  eyeballs, 
smiled  an  expansive  grin,  and  looking  east- 
ward across  the  Rhine  as  if  he  could  see 
every  German  division  exclaimed,  "Mista 
Kaisah,  count  yo're  army  now." 

"Stories  of  comedy  and  tragedy  will  be 
told  us  of  the  front,  in  ever  increasing  num- 
bers as  the  years  roll  by,  but  the  stories  if 
they  be  true  one's  will  enshrine  the  exploits 
of  the  American  dough-boy  in  the  loftiest 
niche  of  fame. 

"England,  France,  Belgium,  Holland, 
Italy,  Spain  and  Northern  Africa  are  the 
countries  in  which  I  have  recently  traveled. 
In  all  save  the  neutrals  similar  scenes  were 
being  enacted. 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  119 

"Soldiers  were  trooping  back.  Holidays 
were  declared.  Marching  legions  were  ac- 
claimed by  hundreds  of  thousands  welcom- 
ing the  victors  home. 

"During  months  of  agonizing  warfare  the 
soldier  had  longed  for  the  armistice.  He 
had  dreamed  of  a  Peace  which  should  end 
all  battle.  For  him  there  was  but  one  de- 
sirable haven,  and  that  haven  was  home. 

"He  returned,  and  then  came  the  awaken- 
ing. Instead  of  peace  and  plenty  he  found 
economic  demoralization,  attended  some- 
times by  riots  which  were  almost  revolu- 
tions. 

"Problems  of  food,  finance,  ocean-trans- 
portation, international  trade,  embargoes, 
tariff-walls  were  all  mixed  up  in  an  economic 
hodge-podge.  Add  to  these  problems  the 
unrest  of  labor  and  the  high  price  of  food 
and  you  have  many  of  the  elements  of  an- 
archy, which  is  the  condition  of  Europe  at 
this  very  hour. 

"I  tried  to  look  beyond  the  reaction  of  the 
moment  into  the  immediate  future  to  see 
Europe  once  more  pursuing  peaceful  and 
profitable  vocations,  with  finance  reorgan- 
ized, production  restored  and  trade  in  full 
swing.  But  the  pendulum  of  peaceful  pro- 


120  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

duction  surely  has  swung  far  back  of  a  nor- 
mal mean,  while  labor  unrest  is  too  preva- 
lent and  pronounced  to  warrant  even  a  sem- 
blance of  optimism.  I  can  only  see  depres- 
sion in  Europe  for  many  weary  months  to 
come. 

"The  situation  is  the  more  serious  because 
of  the  universal  high  price  of  food.  Not  that 
there  is  any  world  scarcity,  for  with  the 
crops  which  are  now  being  harvested,  and 
the  supplies  already  in  hand,  there  is  food 
enough  and  to  spare,  with  the  one  exception 
of  meat. 

"America  has  deemed  it  expedient  to  con- 
tinue its  official  control  of  breadstuffs, 
rather  than  to  effect  a  direct  settlement  with 
the  producer  on  the  basis  of  the  guarantee. 
And  while  from  the  first  I  have  been  a  con- 
sistent devotee  of  de-control,  yet  certainly 
I  have  no  disposition  now,  to  criticise  in  the 
remotest  degree,  the  policies  which  our  Gov- 
ernment proposes  to  pursue.  But  I  want 
you  to  know  that  continued  Government 
control  of  wheat  distribution,  renders  it  im- 
possible for  private  firms  and  individuals  in 
foreign  countries  to  enter  into  competition 
with  us,  or  to  successfully  buy  from  us,  so 
that  by  our  continued  control  we  have 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  121 

forced  the  allied  and  neutral  countries  to 
retain  their  official  bureaus,  thereby  incur- 
ring the  enmity  of  international  business  and 
retarding  readjustment  the  world  around. 

"Prices  will  remain  high  but  they  must  not 
be  artificially  held  at  pre-war  levels.  Sup- 
plies of  wheat  are  much  more  than  adequate 
to  meet  every  demand.  European  require- 
ments will  be  less  this  year  than  the  highest 
figure  of  pre-war  times.  I  repeat,  the  de- 
mand for  wheat  will  be  less  in  Europe  this 
year  than  the  highest  figure  of  pre-war 
times. 

"The  welcome  which  was  extended  to  the 
American  soldiers  when  they  first  landed  on 
the  continent  is  one  of  the  most  emotional 
incidents  of  the  war.  The  universal  feeling 
of  joy  was  expressively  stated  to  me  by  an 
Italian  friend  of  mine  whose  English  was 
often  times  picturesque. 

"Ah,  when  de  Americanos  came  we  were 
mucha  happy.  We  mak'a  da  beautiful 
face." 

"We  did  light  up  the  face  of  Europe,  but 
the  fortunes  of  diplomacy  have  all  but  ex- 
tinguished the  light.  I  shall  not  criticise 
our  diplomats.  It  is  not  for  me  to  say,  just 
now,  whether  their  work  was  nobly  done. 


122  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

I  do  know  that  when  I  left  Europe  three 
weeks  ago  I  did  not  feel  that  I  was  leaving 
any  friendly  government  or  press  behind. 
Surely  that  is  a  condition  which  we  cannot 
afford  to  aggravate  by  an  unwise  commer- 
cial policy  involving  the  bread  of  man.  We 
might  endanger  civilization  and  we  might 
make  the  world  unsafe  for  Democracy. 

"Let  us  now  in  a  moment  of  diversion  con- 
sider the  concluding  features  of  what  I  have 
to  say.  I  am  deeply  sensible  of  the  fact  that 
you  have  listened  to  me  with  generous  cour- 
tesy, but  I  also  realize  that  my  time  is  far 
spent. 

"I  chose  to  introduce  my  preliminary  re- 
marks with  a  simile  of  the  cinema,  because 
I  am  often  asked  why  I  do  not  use  motion 
pictures  to  illustrate  the  subjects  which  I 
discuss.  Without  prejudice  against  the  mo- 
tion picture  industry,  which  is  the  greatest 
educational  force  enlightening  the  masses  in 
this  age  ,no  pictures  of  which  I  can  conceive 
could  carry  to  you  in  one  hour  the  inspira- 
tion which  I  would  impart. 

"If  I  have  but  feebly  tapped  the  fountain 
of  your  thoughts  then  what  you  think  will 
go  further  in  vaster  and  more  potent  ramifi- 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  123 

cations    than    anything   the    eye    could    be 
shown. 

"A  good  speech,  like  a  Rembrandt  picture 
scintillates  with  delicate  lights  and  shades. 
But  it  takes  intelligent  people  to  appreciate 
them.  I  wonder  if  you  follow  me. 

"We  have  seen  something  of  England, 
Scotland  and  France.  I  have  shown  you  a 
procession  of  people  passing  from  war  to 
peace,  with  just  a  touch  of  pathos,  a  glimmer 
of  humor  and  desolate  chaos  which  is  the 
tragedy  of  war.  We  have  seen  the  pendu- 
lum of  progress  swing  backward  on  its  axis, 
passing  in  its  diverting  sweep,  a  host  of  eco- 
nomic problems  which  involve  the  lives  of 
nations  and  the  destinies  of  races. 

"But  there  are  other  countries  where  I 
have  recently  traveled  which  would  interest 
you. 

Belgium,  emerging  from  enemy  occupa- 
tion, ready  to  trade  tomorrow  with  former 
foe  or  friend. 

"Holland,  the  neutral  nation,  which  con- 
stantly incurred  the  enmity  of  first  one 
power  and  then  the  other,  meanwhile  bliss- 
fully starving  to  death,  neath  the  folds  of 
peace. 


124  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

"Spain,  war's  greatest  profiteer,  with  the 
exception  of  Sweden. 

''Italy,  minus  macaroni,  feeding  her  soul 
upon  scenery,  and  devoutly  praying  that 
a  million  tourists  with  a  billion  dollars  will 
soon  be  searching  in  her  ruins  for  relics  of 
Caesar,  while  it  rains  sphagetti  every  Satur- 
day night. 

"Do  you  know  that  in  Italy,  when  the  Aus- 
trians  were  making  their  fiercest  drive  along 
the  Piave,  that  the  horticulturists,  attracted 
by  the  shiny  copper  wire  which  the  British 
had  strung  to  connect  their  bases  with  the 
front,  continually  cut  long  sections  of  that 
wire  from  the  poles,  not  because  of  any  de- 
sire to  assist  the  enemy,  but  in  order  that 
their  grapes  might  be  properly  arbored  from 
tree  to  tree? 

"Do  you  know  that  in  one  little  town  of 
two  thousand  people,  which  was  all  but  de- 
molished by  shell  fire  that  the  Red  Cross 
sent  a  hurry-up  call  to  Rome  for  clothing  for 
the  women  and  children,  and  that  in  due 
time  first  36  cases,  arrived,  each  one  contain- 
ing dozens  of  pairs  of  drawers  which  Italian 
women  never  wear? 

"Do  you  know  that  fifty  car-loads  of  Red 
Cross  material  of  all  kinds  lay  on  the  side 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  125 

tracks  at  Rome,  and  when  it  was  finally  dis- 
posed of  they  used  expensive  cotton  band- 
ages for  shining  shoes  and  they  used  the  lint 
so  painfully  prepared  by  our  good  women  as 
a  substitute  for  cotton  waste  to  wipe  rail- 
road cars  and  other  things? 

"Do  you  know  that  car-load  after  car-load 
of  pajamas  were  sent  into  Italy  when  it  is 
positively  against  the  principles  of  the  Ital- 
ian laborer  to  robe  himself  at  night  in  any- 
thing which  would  afford  security  to  the 
twin  brother  of  the  cootie? 

"Do  you  know  that  I  could  stand  here  for 
an  hour  and  talk  to  you  about  nothing  else 
but  the  lamentable  waste  of  war? 

"However,  I  landed  you  at  Liverpool  and 
now  I  must  bring  you  back.  My  emotions 
upon  returning  to  our  own  country  are  prob- 
ably very  much  like  those  of  any  other  trav- 
eler who  wanders  far  into  foreign  lands  and 
then  comes  home. 

"I  have  never  been  enraptured  by  a  sight  of 
the  statue  of  Liberty,  nor  does  the  sky  line 
of  commercial  peaks  jutting  New  York  har- 
bor appeal  very  vigorously  to  me.  My  mind 
Sweeps  on  to  the  prairies,  over  vast  expanses 
of  fertile  fields.  Out  West,  here  where  the 


126  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

pioneers  discarded  Colonial  clothes  and  put 
on  the  homespun  of  Americanism. 

"Somehow  I  can't  help  believing  that  the 
spirit  of  Liberty,  which  grew  to  maturity 
here  in  our  midst,  is  what  clashed  with  au- 
tocracy on  the  battlefields  of  Europe  and 
sent  it  tottering  to  its  eternal  fall,  and  that 
from  its  ashes  there  will  spring  a  Parliament 
of  Man,  call  it  what  you  will,  which  shall 
guarantee  security  to  law  abiding  nations 
and  to  every  honest  man  the  inalienable 
right  of  a  fair  fighting  chance. 

"We  shall  never  be  able  to  escape  in  this 
country,  the  reflex  of  the  unrest  which  pre- 
vails abroad.  For  unnumbered  years  Eu- 
rope has  been  preparing  its  soil  for  just  such 
seeds  of  discord  as  are  now  being  sown.  But 
in  the  United  States  of  America  there  is  not 
one  square  foot  of  dirt  on  which  Bolshevism 
can  thrive  for  any  length  of  time.  It  will 
be  sown  in  our  midst  but  it  will  fall  among 
the  tares. 

"Americanism,  distinct  and  separate  from 
any  other  nationality,  purged  of  its  hyphens 
and  babel  of  tongues,  is  a  symbol  of  law  and 
order. 

"It  is  a  composite  of  the  Yankee  dough*- 
boy,  stalwart,  erect,  noble  and  brave,  as 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  127 

ready  for  tasks  of  peace  as  he  was  ready  for 
the  rigors  of  war. 

"And  out  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  I 
see  an  old  soldier,  beneath  the  folds  of  a  tat- 
tered flag,  standing  rigidly  at  salute." 


There  is  a  good  man  and  true  on  board 
whose  wife  is  in  the  cabin  just  opposite  me. 
To  be  exact  the  immediate  space  separating 
the  curtain  which  hangs  these  hot  nights 
over  my  door,  and  the  curtain  which  hangs 
in  front  of  her  door  is  two  and  one-half  feet. 
There  are  three  other  women  in  her  cabin. 
All  are  just  the  sort  of  people  by  whom  one 
wishes  to  be  well  thought  of.  Probably  it 
is  unnecessary  for  me  to  say  that  they  are 
religious  workers.  THe  husband  frequently 
joins  the  four  women  for  devotions.  Please 
bear  in  mind  that  I  am  not  writing  for  the 
purpose  of  ridicule.  I  am  labeling  this  para- 
graph "serious." 

It  might  have  been  a  mere  coincidence 
that  the  man  drifted  into  my  cabin  one  eve- 
ning before  I  took  on  a  navy  lieutenant  at 
Gibraltar.  We  discussed  at  some  length 
various  phases  and  repercussions  of  the  war, 
drifting  inevitably  toward  the  moral  side  of 
it.  Finally  he  said  to  me,  "Don't  you  believe 


128  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

that  what  the  world  needs  is  religion?"  It 
was  a  serious  question,  seriously  propounded 
and  warranted  a  serious  answer. 

I  parried  his  question  with  this  one,  "And 
what  do  you  mean  by  religion?" 

Then  he  told  me  a  very  beautiful  story 
of  the  transformation  of  his  own  life;  how 
he  had  traveled  paths  which  troubled  his 
conscience,  but  finally,  after  contemplating 
suicide,  he  was  saved  by  conversion  or  re- 
birth, at  a  Salvation  Army  meeting. 

From  that  time  on  he  had  led  an  entirely 
different  life.  The  change  or  conversion  was 
brought  about  by  a  Power  entirely  distinct 
and  separate  from  his  life  so  he  thought  and 
that  change  was  what  he  meant  by  religion. 

It  was  then  my  time  to  answer  and  I  said 
something  like  this: 

"Since  you  have  given  me  your  definition 
of  religion,  much  as  I  would  like  to  answer 
you  "yes,"  yet  in  obedience  to  the  dictates 
of  my  own  conscience  I  must  say  emphati- 
cally "No." 

He  was  deeply  offended  but  partially  con- 
cealed it  and  asked  me  what  I  meant.  And 
then  I  told  him  something  like  this: 

"Religion  has  wrought  a  great  transfor- 
mation in  your  life.  It  has  in  truth  saved 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  129 

you  and  has  given  you  happiness  which  you 
never  knew  before,  but,  my  dear  fellow,  do 
you  not  see  that  your  experience  was  just 
what  you  needed  for  your  particular  kind 
of  sickness.  Therefore,  like  thousands  of 
good  men  you  conclude  out  of  the  fruits  of 
your  own  experience  that  what  the  world 
needs  is  your  cure.  My  conclusion  is  that 
those  who  are  sick  just  as  you  were,  need 
your  cure  and  no  others.  I  should  be  very 
miserable  indeed  if  fate  should  pull  me 
through  your  process.  Your  soul  needs  one 
kind  of  fertilizer,  mine  another.  Therefore, 
let  us  both  so  live  that  others  may  feel  that 
it  has  been  good  to  know  us,  but  let  us  re- 
member that  after  all  is  said  and  done,  re- 
ligion is  a  matter  of  individual  conscience. 
I  am  very,  very  happy  in  the  knowledge  of 
love  and  respect  of  my  family  and  friends. 
My  religion  satisfies  me." 

Then  the  good  man  began  to  thunder  at 
me,  warning  me  that  the  time  would  come 
in  my  life  when  I  would  feel  the  absolute 
need  of  his  particular  brand  of  religion.  He 
does  not  know,  nor  did  I  tell  him,  that  I  have 
drunk  the  very  deepest  dregs  of  sorrow,  and 
that  somehow  I  have  managed  to  keep  my 
face  to  the  front;  that  in  the  midst  of  infinite 


130  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

tears  I  have  never  lost  sight  of  the  smiles; 
but  from  that  time  on  we  were  lost  in  the 
maze  of  our  philosophies  of  life. 

Which  brings  me  to  this.  The  only  sound 
which  issued  from  my  cabin  door  for  a  week 
was  the  click  of  this  typewriter,  while  now 
and  then  I  would  give  vent  to  a  peroration 
of  an  imaginary  speech.  Cabin  213  had  a 
good  reputation.  Then  came  the  navy  lieu- 
tenant. His  language  is  m-ore  picturesque 
than  mine  and  the  good  ladies  across  the 
way  were  horrified.  He  even  went  so  far  as 
to  invite  some  friends  on  the  boat  to  this 
sanctum.  There  was  a  clink  of  glasses  and 
loud  laughter  inspired  by  the  good  spirits 
which  prevailed.  This  happened  not  once 
but  many  times.  My  reputation  was  at 
stake,  so  I  had  to  save  It. 

This  morning  the  opportunity  came.  The 
blessed  five  gathered  in  the  adjacent  cabin 
for  devotions.  The  lieutenant  was  upstairs 
eating  his  breakfast.  But  drawing  the  thin 
curtain  across  my  door  I  pretended  he  was 
present  and  proceeded  in  the  following  fash- 
ion, shouting  through  the  curtain  so  my 
voice  would  carry  across  the  narrow  hall : 

"Good  morning,  lieutenant.  I  hope  you 
had  a  good  sleep.  You  were  drinking  again 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  131 

last  night.  Your  conduct,  sir,  is  positively 
reprehensible  and  from  this  time  on  I  want 
you  to  distinctly  understand  that  this  cabin 
is  to  be  respected.  My  reputation  shall  not 
be  allowed  to  suffer  because  of  your  worldly 
ways.  (Silence  in  the  adjacent  cabin.)  What 
was  Number  213  before  you  came?  It  was 
my  room  of  meditation  and  thought,  of  work 
and  sleep?  What  have  you  made  it,  sir?  A 
brothal  house.  No  wonder  you  are  silent. 
There  is  nothing-  you  can  say,  absolutely 
nothing.  For  the  sake  of  your  mother  I 
beg  of  you  to  change  your  ways.  Repent 
now,  I  pray.  Do  not  speak.  Do  not  dare  to 
speak.  Listen  to  your  conscience  before  it 
is  too  late." 

I  stopped.  And  as  the  lapping  waves  fell 
back  in  crested  foam  from  the  hull  of  the 
steamer  I  heard  a  fervent  and  echoed 
"Amen."  Then  I  knew  my  sermon  had  gone 
home  (across  the  hall). 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Have  just  heard  that  the  New  York  office 
of  the  Lloyd  Sabaudo  has  sent  out  a  wire- 
less asking  us  where  we  are.  Anxious  hus- 
bands, never  mind.  If  you  could  see  your 
little  wifies,  wild,  free  and  perfectly  happy 
on  the  ocean  wave,  you  might  not  care 
whether  this  old  hulk  sinks  or  not.  Just  as 
one  lady  said  to  me,  "I'm  awfully  glad  I  left 

H y  at  home.     I  wouldn't  have  known 

half  the  things  I  have  learned  on  this  trip." 
Traveling  sure  does  broaden  the  vision  con- 
siderable. 

Yesterday  an  embalmer  and  an  engineer, 
who  is  also  an  embalmer,  became  involved  in 
a  discussion  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  their 
preserving  fluids.  The  American  insisted 
that  his  system  preserved  the  corpse  in  a 
better  condition  than  that  of  the  Italian  com- 
petitor. The  debate  grew  very  heated  and 
a  crowd  gathered  to  hear.  Finally  both 
turned  to  the  audience  and  asked  for  volun- 
teers who  would  loan  an  arm  or  a  leg  for 

132 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP  133 

purposes  of  experimentation.  The  heroes 
were  all  asleep  or  not  present. 

Anyway,  the  Italian  got  the  better  of  the 
argument  by  producing  a  guinea  pig,  appro- 
priately embalmed  looking  natural  as  life. 
In  fact,  the  poor  thing  was  not  exhibited 
very  long  before  several  swore  a  lot  of  little 
guinea  pigs  were  squealing  for  mother. 

But  the  resourceful  American  said,  "I'll 
show  you,"  and  dropped  the  argument  as 
quickly  as  he  had  taken  it  up.  Now  the  sec- 
ond officer  is  looking  for  the  ship's  cat  but 
tabby  is  nowhere  to  be  found.  I  saw  her. 
The  American  rigged  up  a  little  casket  in 
which  he  placed  an  electric  light.  Pussy  is 
laid  out  and  looks  as  natural  as  life.  But 
her  mousing  days  are  over.  She  lies  in  state, 
a  mute  sacrifice  to  the  embalmer's  art.  There 
is  one  lady  on  board  who  carries  her  hus- 
band's ashes.  The  embalmer  has  caused  her 
very  deep  grief  by  demonstrating  to  the 
widow's  satisfaction  that  if  he  had  been 
called  in  she  might  have  preserved  him 
pickled  for  a  century  or  more. 

Saturday  there  were  several  boxing 
matches  which  were  tame  affairs  and  in  the 
evening  six  dough-boys  entertained  the  first- 
class  passengers  with  songs.  It  was  not  that 


134  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

they  sang  so  well,  for  they  did  not.  It  was 
the  animation  with  which  they  rendered 
their  songs  and  it  was  the  democracy  of  the 
occasion  which  made  their  rendition  pos- 
sible, that  appealed  most  emphatically  to  the 
foreigners  on  board.  It  was  hard  for  them 
to  understand  how  we  "aristocrats"  could  as- 
semble and  vociferously  cheer  the  songs  of 
just  "common  soldiers."  Well,  that's  Amer- 
ica. Long  may  she  so  live! 

This  morning  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  distributed 
a  cake  of  chocolate  to  each  man  on  board, 
also  a  small  package  of  cigarettes  and  one 
package  of  Bull  Durham  for  every  two  men. 
At  the  canteen  I  noticed  last  night  they  were 
selling  tobacco  from  boxes  with  Knights  of 
Columbus  labels  on  them.  I  had  heard  that 
this  was  done  in  France  but  I  saw  no  evi- 
dence of  it. 

Some  lady,  adorned  with  a  tortoise  shell 
cigarette  holder,  sang  last  evening  while  a 
fine  old  gentleman  played  the  piano.  They 
say  it  was  beautiful. 

This  morning  we  soldiers  and  one  civilian 
had  oatmeal,  molasses,  oleo,  bacon,  bread 
and  coffee  for  breakfast. 

One  man,  who  walks  around  with  his  left 
hand  in  his  trousers  pocket  all  the  time,  has 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  135 

been  the  butt  of  ungallant  remarks.  The 
poor  fellow  has  a  deformed  arm. 

A  madam  with  three  beautiful  daughters 
has  a  husband  on  board,  but  I  didn't  find 
it  out  for  nearly  three  weeks.  The  embalm- 
ing controversy  might  have  been  given  added 
zest  by  a  real  human  victim. 

I  asked  the  Red  Cross  lady  this  morning 
to  give  me  the  very  latest  information  con- 
cerning the  race  between  the  Captain  and 
the  Lieutenant.  She  said,  "Quit  your  kid- 
ding. I'm  a  poor  hard  working  girl.  When 
I  get  money  enough  I'm  going  to  settle 
down  on  a  little  farm  and  raise  cats"  and 
other  things;  let's  see,  I've  forgotten  what 
she  said  now. 

The  jam  they  serve  for  breakfast  and  at 
tea  is  a  little  fermented,  and  it  is  very  pur- 
gative. Several  people  are  complaining. 

The  American  lieutenant  in  charge  of  the 
quartermaster  stores  says  that  between  $800 
and  $1,000  worth  of  food,  for  the  soldiers, 
has  been  appropriated  since  we  started  on 
this  trip,  by  someone  who  disappeared  with- 
out leaving  a  trace. 

Every  morning  about  9:30  the  Major  calls 
the  American  officers  to  order  in  the  smok- 
ing room  and  business  proceeds. 


136  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

An  Officer:  What's  the  reasons  we  are 
not  being  served  any  oranges?  There  were 
several  cases  loaded  on  the  boat. 

An  Officer:  Some  of  the  second-class  pas- 
sengers have  oranges.  Where  do  they  buy 
them? 

An  Officer:  The  oranges  are  reserved  for 
the  hospital. 

A  Doctor:  I  am  running  the  hospital  and 
I  haven't  seen  an  orange. 

An  Officer:  Most  of  the  oranges  have 
spoilt. 

There  being  no  further  business  and  a 
pretty  girl  having  just  passed  by  a  port  hole, 
the  meeting  is  immediately  adjourned. 

Sunday  morning  the  Missionary  delivered 
an  especially  fervid  appeal  for  the  salvation 
of  the  sinners  on  this  boat.  What  in  thun- 
der does  he  know  about  it  ?  I  haven't  shown 
this  manuscript  to  a  soul. 

A  whale  there  was  who  went  to  sea, 

Riding  the  waves  in  whalish  glee 

One  day  he  swallowed  a  lemon  peel, 

Which  he  found  floating  near  the  keel, 
but   there  goes   the   luncheon   bell.     There 
doesn't  seem  to  be  any  radical  diminution  of 
the  food  on  board.     It  was  coming  strong 
today,  especially  the  fish.     I  wonder  if  that 


ON     A     TROOPSHIP  137 

blooming   embalmer    made    a   mistake    and 
didn't  really  use  the  cat. 

They  are  now  fishing  in  European  waters 
with  T.  N.  T.  depth  bombs.  They  say  that 
aside  from  a  rather  glassy  stare  in  the  eyes, 
the  fish  which  is  T.  N.  Teed  is  unharmed. 

When  that  whale  swallowed  the  lemon 
peel  he  didn't  notice  the  seed 

Until  it  became  a  great  big  tree, 
Filled  with  lemons  as  you  and  me. 

Tomorrow  will  be  a  busy  day.  I  have  sev- 
eral arbitration  cases  to  settle,  a  number  of 
romances  to  wind  up,  and  I  have  promised 
to  give  two  children  a  very  much  needed 
bath.  We've  hit  the  Gulf  Stream  and  this 
boat  has  got  the  heaves. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  storm  rages  at  sea.  This  morning  at 
five  many  were  awakened  by  tremendous 
crashes  of  thunder  and  vivid  flashes  of  light- 
ning. Rain  came  down  in  torrents.  The 
port  holes  had  to  be  closed.  The  vessel 
seems  wet  inside  and  out.  Streams  of  salt 
water  are  running  down  the  corridors.  In 
the  hold  1,206  dough-boys  are  encased  in  a 
dank  and  dismal  tomb.  Scores  of  them  are 
sick.  Water,  waves,  lightning,  fog,  wind, 
mad,  mad  elements  roar  and  rage  in  the 
mighty  tempest.  At  such  a  time  as  this  the 
meek  and  lowly  take  refuge  in  prayer.  A 
few  of  us  hardened  sinners  who  are  able  to 
walk  in  slippery  places  enjoy  the  storm.  The 
ship  seems  to  have  suddenly  become  a  mas- 
ter of  its  own  destiny.  It  plunges  into  the 
teeth  of  a  gale  which  none  can  face  in  the 
bow,  it  rises  and  falls  and  careens  and  then 
rights  itself  and  moves  majestically  on.  A 
storm  at  sea.  How  frail  is  man,  and  yet 
omnipotent.  In  the  calm  the  ocean  seems 
to  be  a  mighty  maw  ready  to  open  at  any 

138 


TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP   139 

moment,  anywhere,  and  swallow.  But  the 
storm  fastens  the  hatches  of  the  horizon 
close  about  you.  The  waves  leap  toward 
you,  the  steamer  quivers  but  goes  on  and  on. 
Here  is  a  fight.  The  elemental  is  stirred. 
Thank  God  for  storms  at  sea ! 

We  are  nearing  home.  The  reception  is 
blustery  but  over  against  the  canopy  of  the 
setting  sun  the  spires  and  towers  of  com- 
merce stand  as  sentinels.  We  cannot  see 
them  now  but  we  can  hear  them.  Time 
drags.  Thus  it  so  happened  that  yesterday 
evening  we  were  to  be  entertained  by  some 
colored  boys,  but  a  fretting  ocean,  which 
was  a  premonition  of  that  which  now  en- 
gulfs us,  upset  the  vocalization  program. 
Hence  it  was  but  natural  that  some  of  my 
acquaintances  asked  me  to  read  the  manu- 
script of  this  book.  That  I  have  been  writ- 
ing it,  is  a  secret  which  I  imparted  only  to  a 
gracious  lady  friend  with  strict  injunctions 
not  to  tell.  Hence  those  who  importuned 
me  were  not  so  very  large  in  numbers.  I 
capitulated.  Casually  browsing  here  and 
there  I  read  a  few  accounts  of  the  incidents 
as  I  have  recorded  them,  just  as  they  have 
been  enacted  upon  this  boat.  It  was 
thoughtless  of  me  to  read  the  harem  scene 


140  TWENTY-FOUR     DAYS 

for  among  my  audience  was  a  hot  blooded 
young  Italian,  a  most  excellent  and  cultured 
man.  He  has  long  black  hair  which  fre- 
quently shades  his  eyes.  He  articulates  with 
his  hands.  He  gesticulates  with  his  legs. 
He  is  animation  quickened  and  electrical. 

In  a  dreamy  monotone  like  the  crooning 
of  a  Hawaiian  love  song  I  began  my  descrip- 
tion of  the  harem.  Deftly  the  picture  was 
enfolded  to  his  ecstatic  gaze,  but  I  wist  not. 
With  that  ardor  which  comes  from  a  natural 
elocutionary  diction,  I  pictured  the  "couches 
of  repose."  Suddenly  there  was  a  wail  and 
a  flop.  The  Italian  had  swooned  and  fallen 
to  the  floor.  Some  one  dashed  a  pitcher  of 
salt  water  in  his  face.  He  gasped  and  mut- 
tered, "O  la  la  la,  tra  la  la,  tra  la  la,  la  la. 
Save,  Save,"  but  he  got  no  further.  No 
doubt  the  power  of  description  had  for  the 
moment  overcome  his  temperamental  mind 
and  he  was  calling  upon  Mahomet's  god, 
Allah,  Allah,  to  save  him,  but  we  could  not 
understand. 

Last  night  when  the  storm  was  raging  at 
its  worst,  a  tremendous  thunder  clap  awoke 
me,  and  it  was  some  time  before  I  could  set- 
tle back  to  sleep.  During  the  interim  I  al- 
ternately switched  the  electric  light  off  and 


ON    A     TROOPSHIP  141 

on  with  each  thunder  peal.  The  Lieutenant 
said  this  morning  that  he  had  spent  months 
and  months  at  sea  but  never  in  his  life  had 
he  witnessed  such  an  electrical  disturbance. 
If  the  storm  had  come  a  day  earlier  I  could 
have  imitated  the  thunder,  too. 

When  it  cleared  up  this  morning  about 
eleven  o'clock  the  soldiers  poured  out  of  the 
hold,  and  they  sent  up  a  cheer  of  universal 
gratitude  which  must  have  startled  old  Nep- 
tune. 

The  Lieutenant  won.  The  lady  will  not 
retire  to  a  farm  and  raise  cats.  She  will 
raise  the  "other  things." 

Two  long  shrill  blasts  of  the  whistle.  A 
man  over  board.  The  ship  swung  round  at 
a  dangerous  angle.  A  life  boat  was  being 
lowered  just  as  I  got  on  deck,  while  there 
in  the  water  an  Italian  officer  was  struggling 
against  fate.  He  had  leaped  from  the  top 
deck  to  save  Scruggs,  the  little  poodle  of  the 
lady  whose  mother  had  thrown  out  the  line. 
Was  a  mite  of  a  dog  worth  a  life  ?  Perhaps, 
when  that  dog  was  cared  for  and  caressed 
by  one  who  had  grown  so  dear  to  him.  All 
of  the  resentment  which  we  felt  in  our 
hearts  when  this  officer  had  wooed  and  won 
(with  the  aid  of  a  doting  mother),  a  girl  of 


142    TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

American  breeding  flickered  out  of  our 
minds  like  mosquitoes  through  a  hole  in  the 
screen  on  a  hot  summer  night.  There  was 
no  need  now  for  Arbitration.  The  jig  saw 
of  fortune  had  buzzed.  The  hour  of  jesting 
is  over.  The  American  and  the  Italian  em- 
balmer  flipped  a  coin  for  the  vantage  and 
tails  won.  While  a  pitiless  shark  settled  the 
fate  of  poor  Scruggs.  Selah! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

When  we  left  Genoa  the  twenty-third  of 
June  this  boat  traveled  at  a  pace  just  a  little 
faster  than  a  man  can  trot.  After  we  had 
taken  on  the  soldiers  at  Marseilles  and  had 
coaled  at  Gibraltar  we  then  struck  out  across 
the  Atlantic  at  the  same  rate  of  speed.  Noth- 
ing has  stopped  us.  We  have  kept  going. 
Tomorrow  we  dock  in  New  York.  After  all, 
the  plugger  is  the  fellow  who  gets  there. 

When  Theodore  Roosevelt  sent  the  Amer- 
ican fleet  around  the  world  a  little  while  ago, 
very  few  knew  what  he  had  in  mind.  Just 
one  incident  of  that  trip  proved  very  helpful 
during  the  war,  for  the  Yankton  couldn't 
keep  up.  It  was  a  small  boat,  the  machinery 
was  not  in  good  repair,  and  it  continually 
lagged  behind.  There  was  no  wireless  on 
the  boats,  but  it  kept  in  touch  with  the  fleet 
by  following  the  route  of  boxes,  tin  cans, 
and  other  things  which  were  thrown  over 
board.  So  in  the  Great  War  battleships  and 
merchant  ships  threw  nothing  over  board 

143 


144    TWENTY-FOUR  DAYS  ON  A  TROOPSHIP 

which  would  not  sink  and  thus  give  the  sub- 
marine a  trail  to  follow. 

Last  night  I  went  upon  the  top  deck  for 
a  time  to  enjoy  the  stars  and  the  moonlight 
and  a  calm  ocean.  I  chose  a  secluded  spot 
on  top  of  one  of  the  life  boats  which  was  cov- 
ered with  a  canvas.  Suddenly  I  heard 
voices  below  me  and  I  couldn't  help  listen- 
ing. One  was  a  married  man,  the  other  an 
unmarried  girl.  There,  in  a  most  wonderful 
setting  of  sky  and  sea,  they  plotted  their 
platonic  love.  Of  all  the  hydra-headed  mon- 
sters which  has  ever  invaded  the  lives  of 
people,  platonic  love  is  about  the  most  dev- 
ilish and  dastardly.  It  simply  cannot  be 
done.  Infinite  sorrow  is  reaped  by  those 
who  embrace  it.  Better  bubonic  than  pla- 
tonic ! 

This  has  been  a  gala  day,  the  last,  we 
hope,  on  board  the  Pesaro.  Splendid  box- 
ing matches,  real  music,  speeches,  and  hilar- 
ity. We  are  almost  home.  Few  of  the 
rumors  which  disturbed  us  have  material- 
ized. We  have  had  plenty  to  eat,  good  sea 
weather,  and  here  is  our  country.  A  multi- 
tude of  vexations  are  submerged  in  joy. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

For  heaven's  sake,  porter,  hurry  with  that 
baggage.  Taxi,  please.  Hello,  Broadway, 
I'm  home! 


145 


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DATE  DUE 


GAYLORD 


